


His Way Home: Veratrum (no. xx2)

by cantletgo, StarsAreMyOcean



Series: His Way Home (A Lizzington AU RP) [3]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-22 15:48:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8291450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantletgo/pseuds/cantletgo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsAreMyOcean/pseuds/StarsAreMyOcean
Summary: After several months of searching, the team finally has a lead on the latest Blacklister, Veratrum: the premier name in cyber security for criminals. Red and Liz have finally started to settle into a rhythm as a family. Very important questions still hang in the air as they navigate this new road...AU, post 4A. Tumblr RP that evolved into much more. Bounces between Red's and Liz's perspectives.Explicit rating for sex.





	1. Family Ties

**Author's Note:**

> This is an on-going freeform Lizzington AU (post 4a) RP that bounces between Red and Liz's perspectives. For more details, including a Prologue, Intro, live updates, etc. you can check out the RPs Tumblrs ([@hiswayhome](http://hiswayhome.tumblr.com/) & [@conciergeinred](http://conciergeinred.tumblr.com/)). If you prefer to read in the original format, [Red is keeping track for you here on Tumblr.](http://conciergeinred.tumblr.com/xx2-toc) (NOTE: they are unedited, so there will be mistakes that have been corrected in this collected format)
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE:  
> All NSFW chapters will be marked accordingly in the chapter notes!

Another season had come and gone as Liz stared out the rustic window of Dom’s modest cabin. Summer had quickly faded by in a blur of warm skin and shaded woods. She took her time catching small fish on the Blacklist with the Task Force through the later months, but she prioritized her time with Agnes over all. Always for Agnes. She was becoming the mother she needed to be, _wanted_ to be, even if it required sacrifice. Sacrifice Cooper was handling very well.

“You’re one of my best agents,” Cooper’s eyes were set on her in a disarming manner. His sincerity was always jarring. “For better or for worse you’re a part of this team. So take your time with Agnes, your grandfather, and Reddington. Come back to us when you’re ready.” Before she could walk out and back to work his voice rang out.

“Just make sure you don’t fake your death this time,” he chuckled at his own joke. The healing had been a rough process over the last year, but she was thankful they had finally entered the jovial stage.

It had been her first week back since her maternity leave. Her retreat had lasted a bit longer than expected. Pages of the calendar seemed to fall off like melted butter as time enveloped her in a paradise she never thought possible.

So again she sat at the table where so many breakfasts had passed. Dinners with family and the glowing light of stories of a long forgotten past. Dom smiled more when she was around. Agnes had taken a special liking to the old man which allowed Liz to relax in a way she would have with no one else.

 _He_ had missed her first step.

Her first word.

Red traveled for his work, she didn’t question that, but she knew this couldn’t be a long term arrangement. It was drawing to a close with the falling leaves of Autumn. Red had a plan like he always did, but Liz was ready to make one of her own. She needed him home every night with the same bed and the same haunting owls to sing them to sleep each night. She wanted bikes and toys strewn across the lawn and late night shared bottles of wine. This was a nice house but this certainly was not her home. Not without him.

* * *

Smooth papers crinkled as he shifted through the stack once more. Everything was stunningly designed and met his every last specification. Searching for something that already existed to meet their needs proved to be a far more difficult task than he originally thought.

“What’s the timeline on this Enzo?” he voiced betrayed his mildly flustered frame of mind. Months ago he had wanted to have this particular matter resolved, so that his family could finally settle into a more normal lifestyle. Not that their lives would ever be anything close to most peoples concept of “normal”, but a close semblance would suffice.

“For you Raymond, three weeks. And, I will see if I can channel some of the construction magic of my ancestors to get it to you sooner. Rome might not have been built in a night, but perhaps a week had they the resources you provide.” The squat, boisterous man beamed excitedly at his newest client. He was being paid quite a handsome sum by a rather infamous person so the jovial tone might have something to do with those circumstances.

“I have faith everything will be perfect.” After clapping the man on the back, he sauntered back to his waiting vehicle, just as his phone rang. The other matter that had been working at his last nerve.

“Michael. Any word?” Ever since they had taken down Otto all those months ago, they had been keen on locating Michael’s sister for questioning. Michael for personal reasons, Red for questions concerning her employers. His sources had identified Michael as the sibling with ties to the Cabal. Seems that information was faulty, whether on purpose to throw him off the trail or accidental, he had been certain to rectify the situation. Those assets were no longer a problem and he acquired Michael in the process.

“I might have found her Reddington. The signature isn’t exact, but it’s the closest I’ve seen since we started this…want me to call that FBI guy?” his voice a sweet tenor crackling over a low quality earpiece.

“You mean Agent Mojtabai? That won’t be necessary Michael. I’ll send someone to pick you up. I think it’s time we had a meeting with the rest of the team.” With a snap of the phone, he was off. Someday he would be rid of the people on this godforsaken list. Maybe the world will be a little brighter when they’re gone.

_Soon Lizzy. Soon we will have that life together._

* * *

“And she flipped over the _couch_?!” Liz howled with laughter, tears threatening to stream down her face.

“Well I’m glad it’s funny to someone,” Ressler walked by Aram and Liz casually half listening half working, but never stopping.

“It’s funny now, but I assure you it was painful in the moment,” Aram scratched at the back of his head and crinkled his eyes in a genuine smile.

He had been visiting Agnes and Liz as often as he could, finding buses and taxis to make the commute. His bike just wouldn’t cut it. Three weeks and she was already in a comfortable work rhythm, learning the balance of family and friends.

“Harold, it appears to be your lucky day.” A familiar voice boomed from the Post Office elevator and out stepped Raymond Reddington.

Liz’s head snapped away from the story, desperate to have a visual to match the voice she’d been falling asleep to on the phone nearly every night. Even though they saw each other almost every weekend, it wasn’t enough. The work dynamic needed stability but so did everything involving them.

He gave her a quick smile before Michael stepped out from around him holding a computer and rushing right at her. But she wasn’t the target. Michael threw his laptop on Aram’s desk and began pointing, speaking a language only Aram would understand, _tech_.

“Reddington, we weren’t expecting you today. Dembe informed us you were in Dubai?” Cooper descended the steps from his office tower.

* * *

“I was Harold. Visiting an old friend who was interested in purchasing something I was selling. Good man Ismail, met him while vacationing in Mykonos a few years back. My God do those people know how to to party! Extravagant beach parties day and night I tell you. Huge bonfires, wild music, and clothing completely optional. But I digress. Duty called and Michael and I have some information to present you.” He could feel Liz’s eyes boring into him. She was rarely amused with his stories, but he couldn’t help but tell them.

“The next name on our list, Veratrum. Whose identity we recently learned to be Serena Holden. Her skills are beyond compare, the most sought after person when it comes to cyber security for the wealthy, and more often than not, the criminal. She also has some very powerful, very nefarious allies. We’ve been trying to find her since we took down Otto a few months ago. She’s been quite the slippery little devil but we finally have a good lead.” He had anticipated that the search would take time but his patience was growing thin. Finding ghosts in a graveyard was harder than he originally thought. Thankfully he had an excellent team in Aram and Michael.

Michael was furiously typing away on a keyboard as Aram connected cables to his laptop. Their conversation about who knows what continued. It was baffling that they were even speaking English. When Michael finally located the documents he was seeking, they popped up on the overhead screens. Satisfied to see everything was in order he took center stage.

“Everyone who codes has a particular signature they add to their work, something that identifies that piece as theirs. We’ve been able to find little bits that look similar to her signature, but they are all mixed up with other markers that don’t fit her usual style. Aram, right?” Michael pointed to the man, who silently nodded in response. “Aram here decided to start tracking all these occurrences, trying to find a pattern.” Highlighted lines of code, a language Red did not understand, were splayed across the screen. Maps of various countries with little green pinpricks joined their ranks. Aram was quick to pick up where Michael left off.

“I wanted to see if maybe she’s working with others but that doesn’t appear to be the case. Our guess is her signature has become a very variable one, as another way to try and cover her tracks. It’s worked quite well. But I was finally able to narrow down our search to a few servers on the West Coast. Michael thinks he can narrow it down even further. He’s been writing a tracking program that we are hoping to upload to one of the servers. Let it sniff things out for us.” His hopeful tone told them that he really thought they might be able to find her through this method.

Red could only hope. He needed some information about the people she worked for. Needed to close that chapter of the book. It would never be as simple as her leading him right to them, but every little clue he found along the way lead him towards the final goal.

* * *

Liz sat back watching Red control the room in his usual grandeur. It was nice having the team together in harmony, but not everything slid so perfectly back together after the royal mess she made a year ago. Time heals all, that was one fortune cookie crook that was true, but some things could never be forgotten.

There was a new bond between Aram and Red that Liz couldn’t quite explain, like he’d seen something the others hadn’t. A gentle hand on Aram’s shoulder as he explained the code showed a respect Red rarely gave, especially to anyone wearing a badge.

Cooper was a new man, ready to make the tough calls, pushed towards an edge of extremism. He was a leader with pain in his eye and a fierce protection in his heart. He was as ready to catch Serena as Raymond was, already calling after the California branch to set up recon teams.

Samar was still distant, _wary_ , but damn good at her job. Ressler watched her carefully as she blurred into the partner Liz could never be for him again. The two quickly grabbed their overnight bags stashed in their offices, ready to leave at the drop of a hat. No personal lives to get in the way, the picture of occupational dedication.

With every day and every Blacklister, she realized why she could never leave this family. It was astonishing how far she had come. How differently she could see things. She had been searching her whole life for pieces of a puzzle she thought would define her when in actuality, the only picture she needed had been right in front of her this whole time.

“Red, can we talk?” Liz emerged from the back of the small assorted audience grasping him intimately by the wrist. She was careful to keep things professional in public, but it felt like ages since they’d seen each other. Didn’t a visit warrant a phone call? A warning at least? He could have told her… Ever the mystery.

* * *

He turned his hand in her wrist so as to delicately complete the contact. That question rarely boded well for him, or anyone for that matter. He often pondered what the interaction was like the first time that phrase was uttered in a negative context.

“Always Lizzy. Something troubling you?” he bit the inside of his cheek and squinted at her with questioning eyes.

* * *

She lead him back to her office which had turned into a half cleared desk she hadn’t organized since maternity leave. She took a seat on the table top and leaned back casually, dropping his hand.

“I didn’t know you were back in the country,” she cocked one eyebrow up suspiciously. “A phone call would have been nice."

* * *

He felt like a young boy being dragged to the teacher’s desk to discuss a poorly made choice.

“I suppose a call would’ve been the wise decision.” with a sigh, he settled into the chair in front of her, and let his shoulders slump a touch, all the insanity of the past year weighing heavily upon them. He touched his fingers to his face and massaged tensed brow muscles.

“I got in about two hours ago, picked up Michael on the way. Things have been…busier than anticipated. Decades of work catching up to me. I would love nothing more than to forgo the whole ordeal. Spend the time I crave with you and Agnes.”

* * *

“Work-life balance,” she gave him a wry half smile. “Someone told me about that once,” she landed a soft kiss on his cheek.

Liz could have asked him to come back or to fill her in. She could have said a million things, but the truth was she was glad to have him back in all capacities.

“Will you be coming home tonight?” The idea excited her. If only it was really _home_. She leaned against the doorframe knowing now wasn’t the time for a serious conversation. It never really seemed to be the time for a serious conversation, after all, a Blacklister was on the loose.

* * *

The warmth of those soft lips melted away all his tensions. How he had missed her. Seeing her for a few moments here and there was lovely. The nightly phone calls a blessing. But really being there for her was what he wanted the most.  
  
“Of course Lizzy.” he growled it in her ear, brunette hair tickling his face.  
  
“Just, please tell me you convinced Dom of our need for slightly larger sleeping accommodations...I’m not sure that my back could handle another night squished on that tiny bed.” The closeness it provided was wonderful, but sometimes, one needed space to stretch in the early dawn hours.

* * *

“Yeah that’s not a conversation _I’m_ having with him,” Liz laughed and wiped a bit of lingering fresh lipstick from his cheek.

They were in sore need of a master bedroom or at the very least a full sized bed. Agnes was getting to the point of needing a room for herself. After her first birthday Liz had longed for her child to have a room of her own. Something to decorate with the pictures of the event and a place to put the gifts and shiny new toys from her friends. Maybe it was time to ask Dembe what Red had been up to lately. Patience was a virtue, but Liz was in a mood of action.

* * *

Great. He was hoping she would use her charm to get approval from her grandfather. Guess he would have to talk to Dom about it. Maybe it would just be better to show up with a new frame and mattress…

//

A beautiful amber glow covered the trees as they drove down the long dirt driveway. He could not wait to hold his sweet Agnes in his arms again. Kiss those chubby little cheeks and tousle her soft brown hair. He decided he would suffer with the small bed for now. In just a few short weeks, he hoped to be leading his family to their new home. He opened the car door for Liz, and escorted her to the rustic porch of Dom’s cabin.

* * *

Liz opened the door in familiarity not waiting for Red’s usual manners. She called out to her grandfather instinctively. Dom rounded the corner with their baby girl in his arms looking content as ever.

“Look who’s home sweetheart,” Liz’s voice jumped into the _baby octave_. Dom’s eyes were streaming daggers in Red’s direction, but he handed over the child nonetheless to Liz’s open arms.

Agnes’ eyes were fixed on Red, per usual. She loved her daddy. Liz snuggled her, vibrating her lips into Aggie’s pudgy neck. The child squealed with laughter, clapping small hands onto Liz’s shoulder, lighting her eyes with joy.

* * *

He couldn’t help but to laugh under his breath at the look Dom shot his way. The man would forever give him hell for everything that had happened between he and Liz.  
  
“Hello Dom. Terribly sorry for not calling either of you. Lizzy’s already given me an earful.” He hung his coat and hat on the pegs near the entrance.  
  
“Oh, you mean you actually know what a phone is? Hope she kicked you to the shop. Just cleaned the fireplace and chimney yesterday. You might not have the warmth of my granddaughter’s body there but at least the fire will be some comfort.” the men watched as Liz kicked her shoes off and danced into the other room, cooing at and tickling the bubbly child. Dom’s tongue rested at the corner of his lips and a mischievous eyebrow shot towards the ceiling. “So how are things?”  
  
“What, you save all your fury and rage for when she’s in earshot?” The change in his tone and body language was jarring. Dom was playing games with him.  
  
“Ha ha ha, it’s quite the sport. I’ve put up with your shit for many more years than she but some of the stories she tells…oh God Raymond will you ever learn? We have fun when you’re not around.” he padded into the den, his low laugh trailing behind.  
  
“Wonderful. I do hear it’s a rather difficult feat to teach an old dog new tricks.” he shook away the rest of that thought. Dom wouldn’t be interested in hearing how Liz handled him when he was in some of his more stubborn moods. “Things are moving along well. I’ll follow up in a few days for the next phase. Have you thought more on my offer?”  
  
“I have. And I do not yet have an answer.” Worn couch springs creaked as the man dropped onto the battered cushions.  
  
“You know how much it would mean to the both of us to have you there. There’s not too many we can trust with Agnes, and of those select few, the number that can watch her when we cannot are even less.”

* * *

Liz could hear a whispered conversation in the den, but she chose to ignore it. Dom had been more than forthcoming with secrets, this would be no different. She carried Agnes out to the back porch to watch the sun set over the trees. The old man had been busy, a freshly cut pile of split wood on the side of the yard, ax still mounted in the stump. A few baby toys were lying in the freshly mowed grass. That was something Liz required if Agnes was to play in the yard. After some grumbling, Dom had retrieved the ancient mower from the shed and set to work on the landscape.

Liz took a seat on the back porch swing. Softly she glided back and forth, kicking her feet and humming a tune to sway the little one to sleep. She wanted some time alone with Red tonight and the first step in her plan was putting Agnes down for a, hopefully, full night’s sleep.

Dom’s laughter bellowed from the den drifting outside to the rustling tree leaves. She could see why the old man enjoyed the solitude, but she would have been driven stir crazy if it wasn’t for her work.

Within moments Red was joining her on the rickety wood swing, the weight shifting from one side to the other. One arm wrapped securely around her shoulder while his eyes stayed focused on their daughter.

“I’ll miss this view,” she whispered hoping not to wake the baby.

* * *

“It’s spectacular. Dom’s really done a lot with the place since you and Agnes moved in.” He let his legs rock back and forth, joining Liz in keeping the seat moving. The leaves on the trees were starting to turn and the Autumn evenings were getting steadily cooler. He snuggled closer to Liz, enjoying her warmth melting into him.

Little sounds rose from the sleeping child in Liz’s arms. He couldn’t believe how much she had grown, time seemed to be flying fast. It felt like only yesterday that she was a tiny infant, a small little bundle he could curl in his arms. She still had some of her endearing baby pudge and her soft and wispy hair was starting to frame her face. Guess he needed to face the fact that she was growing up. In a few years, they would be thinking about schools and everything else that came with a child that age.

Would she do sports? He didn’t exactly see Liz as a soccer mom and he was certain that him being a father involved with sports would go over about as well as the atomic bomb. Maybe she’d become an artist or a musician. No matter what, Dom would see to it that she learned how to play piano. That was something that could become a life passion.

He was suddenly aware of Liz staring at him and that the sun was now falling below the line of the porch roof. He must’ve been lost in his thoughts for some time.

“I know you’ve been incredibly patient with me these past few months Liz. Do you think we could take some time off next week, just the two of us, so I can show you what I’ve been so fervently working on during that time?” The outer structure and basic landscaping of their home should be just about done. He would have to call Enzo tomorrow for an update.

Before they moved on to decorating the interior and finalizing the landscaping, he wanted to get Liz’s stamp of approval. And her touch would really make the place home. She had already done a fabulous job in a short period of time at Dom’s house, and he was perhaps the most stubborn man on Earth when it came to changes


	2. Roots and Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW

“Aram did what?” Liz pulled off into the parking lot of a rickety old diner. Red’s car was already parked a ways away, alone and empty.

“No, it has to be one of those three servers. We’re sure of it. Did you give him the right IP’s?” She readjusted her phone so it was balancing on her shoulder.

She ripped her badge off and switched jackets to something more domestic. She raked the fingers of her free hand through her wind whipped brown hair into a presentable fashion. She was already running about ten minutes late. Hopefully that didn’t put too much bearing on the outcome of the conversation Red had so painstakingly set up.

“Ress, I have to go. Call Michael. He knows more about this than either of us. I know Aram hasn’t warmed up to him yet but… He’s a good kid.” She waited for a response before pulling open the steel diner door.

“Friday? That soon?” She spotted Red at a booth in the back across from a portly gentleman with close cropped receding hair and week old stubble. Red’s eyes were locked with her’s for nearly a second before returning his attention to his guest.

“We need this, it’s our only lead. Get it done.” She dropped the phone into her back pocket and pushed open the door. A sing songy bell alerted everyone to her presence.

* * *

“I really don’t know Raymond. I love both Elizabeth and Agnes, but I also love my home. The one I built. The one I’ve lived in for many years.” He was tapping his hand against the table, causing silverware to gently cling against each other.

“I know I’m asking a lot of you Dom but I also see how you are with the two of them. Speaking from personal experience, do you really think you could just walk away? Rather, in your case, let them walk away?” It pained him to play that card. It was a dirty, manipulative move that he knew would cut right to his heart.

“No. I could not.” He drank deeply from the coffee stained mug, eyes sparkling in deep contemplation. He was being selfish and hurting people again.

The gentle tingling of the bell broke the discomfort that had settled upon the booth. Liz’s hair was tousled and she looked like she had rushed over here. Late as always. Not that he minded, all that mattered to him was that she showed.

“Lizzy. Did you get a chance to talk to Harold about some vacation time? A weekend would suffice.” The team had been working around the clock lately. They only needed a day or two but he secretly hoped that they would be able to jet away for a week.

* * *

“Sorry I’m late,” she kissed the top of Dom’s head to Red’s surprise. She nodded to a waiter and gently asked for coffee before sliding in beside Raymond.

“Considering I just took the past month and half off, I’m not sure how Cooper will react. Ressler had some news this morning actually…” Before she went any further she remembered they had company outside of their small Post Office circle.

“Sorry,” she apologized again and met eyes with her grandfather. “We can talk about this later.” She squeezed Red’s hand under the table.

Taking time off work was the last thing she wanted in the middle of a case. Maybe it was his turn to take some time off, concierge or not. Liz was just now finding her rhythm again with the team and balancing Agnes had finally panned out with Dom by her side. Maybe a long weekend, he did have a jet after all. Why had Red called this meeting? Couldn’t they have met at home? Her skeptical and cautious nature kicked in as she scanned the restaurant. Why here?

* * *

He loved the innocent little gestures that really told him how much she loved him. Quickly returning her squeeze, he broke away from her grip and finished his first cup of coffee.

“We will deal with that business later. I had a frustrating discussion earlier related to the matter. Now, we deal with this business. You simply must try one of these scones Lizzy.” He pushed plate heaped with a variety of fruit scones towards her, carefully selecting a currant one for himself.

“The _best_ scones this side of the Atlantic. I can’t remember the last time I had one. Found myself craving a sweet, crumbly bite of heaven. You know, I’ve been trying to get Mirna to divulge her secret for years. No matter what I try, mine always come out far too cakey and the flavor nowhere near as complex as hers.” Little bits of crumbs clung to week-old stubble, which he gently brushed away. He hadn’t even thought of shaving, he was too focused on the case at hand, and more importantly, his home.

“I know I haven’t been around much this summer, but that’s all about to end. If you think you can escape work this weekend, I would love nothing more than to show you what’s kept me from our family for far too long.” He turned his body to really look at her. It had been a long process searching for a home and when that didn’t pan out, locating the ideal parcel of land had been a challenge in and of itself. Thankfully, the construction portion of the ordeal had gone smoothly and he was dying to show _their_ home to her.

And Dom, if only he could convince the old man to uproot and join them.

* * *

Liz wasn’t really a scone person. She pulled at the pastry dismissively on the plate in front of her until the waitress placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of her.

“I’ll see what I can do.” The piles of work waiting on her desk crept into the back of her mind. Surely she’d be able to bring some case files home. She didn’t need to be in the office to get things done. She could make this work.

“So what have you two been talking about?” Liz lifted one eyebrow interrogatively towards Dom.

Red was as slippery as they came. Another monologue about the kind of coffee beans they served would be his escape from answering such questions, but Dom… The old man still had his eyes trained on Red, mauling over some invisible decision. Biting his lip and sipping at his coffee he fought an internal battle. She recognized that look. Red’s words were his most dangerous weapon and Dom was pushed up against the ropes. Red had him cornered with guilt and responsibility, but for what?

* * *

Both the men looked at her a moment, letting the question hang in the air.

“About having Dom come live with us. Having someone always there to watch over Agnes when we cannot.” He thought it a good plan, but there was one major hitch, involving Dom of all things.

“But I feel such conflict. He asks me to leave all that I have. Years ago, it would have been easy to tell him off. But now, you and Agnes are in the picture and I want nothing more to be with what little family I still have….” the man let his thoughts fall flat.

“I am no longer a young sapling and it is not so easy to remove an old oak from where it has firmly sat for so long. I know you understand how I feel Elizabeth.”

Red sat there, feeling like the worst person ever for just wanting to have his family together. All he wanted was them all to be happy..

* * *

 

“Just because we’re,” she stopped. The word _leaving_ was too fresh, too deep a wound. She wasn’t leaving, never again.

“We’re… laying down our own roots doesn’t mean you have to leave yours. Agnes can still visit and vice versa. She loves you Dom.”Liz tried her best to balance out Red’s proposal and give the man a way out.

The way Dom moved around the old house said more than any words he could put together. He was a part of that house with decades of memories to go along with it. Her time in the garage alone told her that much. She wouldn’t ask him to abandon that, she couldn’t. All of this just so she and Red could traipse around the world cleaning up other people’s problems? Putting their own lives in danger? Without even handling their own? It may take a village, but Dom was not the only villager.

“We come out of nowhere and bombard you with responsibility and requests. We’ve been burden enough.” Liz shifted against Red, hoping he could read her malcontent gesture.

“We would never _expect_ that of you.” Liz drew out the verb, letting it slap Red in the face like a wet towel. They’d barely had time together. After so many decades of not knowing her grandfather existed, suddenly Red wanted to make him a live in nanny? While she agreed it was a far better option than any they’d considered, he was leaving out one key piece, Dom’s willingness.

* * *

Liz would see to it that he was thoroughly scolded later for these particular actions and decisions. Her disapproval came through that lean like a hot brand burning his skin. The trio finished their afternoon coffee at the little dinner uncomfortably. Liz and Dom talked, and he was left to sit and ponder in silence.

//

After picking up Agnes from Charlene and returning her and Dom to the cabin in the woods, Red drove Liz out to the site of their new home. She still wasn’t speaking to him, obviously calculating her words. He didn’t dare begin any kind of discourse with her in this mood. There was some truth to Dom’s words: he hadn’t really learned but he had at least learned enough to give her the space to breathe when it was needed.

The car turned off the main road onto a freshly paved driveway. Trees had been cut back and the afternoon sun glowed a warm gold amidst the Autumn leaves. A few twists and turns and the road opened right up, revealing green grass, and a large home with a wraparound porch.

“What do you think Lizzy?”

* * *

Liz’s eyes drifted away from the turning trees to the modest abode lying in the center of a plush green lawn, despite the overflowing construction. The exterior was already completed, siding and shingles in place, windows installed. The dark tan siding matched perfectly with light stones used for the porch pillars. The house was on a slight hill, allowing the driveway to lead down to a basement garage with two individual car stalls.

Red pulled in, activating the garage with a remote already clipped to the visor. The door to the house in the garage was still sealed off with sheets of plastic. The plastering in the garage was still fresh so she took a stroll back up to the front lawn, completely enamored. Her hands trailed tenderly across the railing of the raised porch to the stone steps leading to the gorgeous wooden door, light from inside shining through the crystallized glass.

“Is this the part where you say, ‘honey I’m home?’” She broke the silence. The house was… amazing and she hadn’t even seen inside yet.

* * *

He sighed heavily in relief, finally daring to release the breath he had been holding. It had been many months in the making, but it was all worth it to see the loving expression she now bore on her face.

“Welcome home Elizabeth.” he strode up the steps, stopping just below her. “We finally have a place to call our own.” Visions of him snuggling close to Liz on a swing yet to be installed flashed before him. Of little Agnes running around the porch and tumbling down the hill. Of them coming together and growing here.

* * *

“Quite the metaphor, even for you.” The confused look she received egged her to continue. “Like everything else with us, half finished but well on it’s way.”

She removed the fedora from his head and placed it on her own, giving him a wry smile from above

* * *

“As long as we are well on our way to being complete, then I will accept that metaphor.” He took another step up and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Shall we go for a tour? Hopefully this weekend when we have more time, I can have you meet with the interior designer to discuss our options.” He slid his arms from her waist and grabbed her hands, leading her through the gorgeously handcrafted door, the colorful stained glass glimmering brightly in the light of the setting sun.

Beyond the door was a grand staircase, leading to the upper floor. Each spindle of the railing painstakingly hand-turned. They strode through a large living area and what he hoped to be a library.

“What do you think so far? What would you like to see first?”

* * *

Liz took view of the first floor, looking into each empty open space. The dusty bare floors and drywall didn’t stop her from imagining the beauty of what could be. A large kitchen which she knew she’d never be cooking in settled in the corner. A half wall of countertop looked over into a dining room that easily sprawled over into a large living room, fireplace and all. She could see herself drinking a glass of wine, Red cooking in the kitchen, and keeping an eye on Agnes playing in the living room.

“I assume the bedroom is upstairs?” Her eyebrow lifted up tauntingly already mounting the steps to explore further.

* * *

He had paid a lot of attention to the upstairs rooms. Gave them plenty of space for themselves, and made sure Agnes had room to grow. He even thought of any guests they might have and had rooms made for them.

“A very large master suite that will have everything we could ever want. Space for a king-size bed. A bathroom with a large shower stall, we could even have a jacuzzi tub for two installed if you like. It’s a very spacious bathroom.” She was teasing him and he was ready to bite hook, line, and sinker.

* * *

He really did think of everything. His attention to detail was impeccable, not surprising. She peered into every room. Red followed behind silently, just a little too close, giving away his intentions. Agnes’ room was splendid, a large window looking out into the front yard. She imagined their daughter peering out the window waiting for daddy’s car to pull into the driveway, finally home.

She finally made her way into the master suite, empty and spacious. Red’s hat was now in her hands. She was fingering the brim unconsciously as she looked around.

“It really is a shame it’s not finished or at least _furnished_ ,” she sighed dramatically.

* * *

Months of not really having time to themselves was coming to a head, hard and fast. He strode up to her, tilting his hat back on her head. It was a good look for her. But she was right.

“A shame indeed.” He stroked her neck, twirling a stray strand. “I’m sure we could…figure something out.” He had a few ideas, but he wanted to hear her beg this time.

* * *

To think she was impatient with the house...now she was impatient with other _needs_. She turned around to face him, his fingers still wrapped in her hair. She leaned a kiss in at the base of his neck, just above the knot of his tie and worked her way up. She lingered on his chin and then to the corners of his lips.

“At the very least a _carpet_.” She ran one hand under his jacket and up his side, caressing with her thumb.

* * *

She was hitting all the right spots and driving him absolutely wild. A wicked idea came to mind, something he had not indulged in since his youth.

“I do believe we have a car in the garage. One with a luxurious leather interior and a rather spacious backseat…” he had started to growl the words into her mouth. His loins stirred with a burning desire.

“And this time, I’m driving Lizzy.”

* * *

The idea of Red finally taking control did things to her and impatience finally broke through the barrier of restraint. She could see the proof that her teasing had proven successful. Breaking away from the embrace she lead him out the room by the tie.

Grasping his hand at the steps she pulled him down slowly, taking the time to push him up against the wall at the bottom, kissing him fervently. She threw his hat to the ground and pushed off his jacket. Her fingers helped to loosen his tie while their tongues danced in a heated rush.

“Which one’s the garage door?” She groaned into his mouth as he unbuttoned his vest hastily.

* * *

He teased the shirt off her, discarding it over the banister. His thoughts were racing, trying to think which door lead to where he needed to go…

“Kitchen. Left door.” His heart pounded and his cock throbbed. He had wanted to get Liz’s thoughts on the house. He couldn’t have asked for a better approval.

* * *

Red wasn’t kidding when he said it was his turn to drive. Within seconds she was placed on the hood of the car, legs wrapped around his waist. They had left a trail of clothing through their new home, marking territory already.

She dug her fingernails into the back of his neck, pulling him towards her. One free hand wandered down to his pants which were still frustratingly on. She found her target and fished it from his back pocket. He broke from the kiss once he realized her hands weren’t staying down there to see what she was holding.

“You’re out?” She rifled through his wallet, looking for a condom but came up dry.

* * *

He rolled his eyes at her discovery. They had been inconsistent with their use of protection over the past few months but they had gotten much better. He even went back to stashing one in his wallet like a high school bad boy at Liz’s encouragement, just in case the mood struck them while out in their very limited alone time.

 _When had they used the one she had stashed in there?_ he pondered. Memories of a spontaneous weekend trip to Tuscany and a delightful encounter on the balcony of their villa came rushing back. The sight of her breasts pressed into the cool stone stone as he bent her over the half wall, her pants clinging to her ankles…

A frustrated moan escaped his lips, as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. Much as they loved Agnes, they had agreed the last thing they wanted was another unplanned pregnancy. Though, they had never ruled out the possibility of someday having another child…and they did finally have a home of their own. Perhaps they could sow some new seeds in their attempt to establish their own roots.

“Lizzy…I…we…” the words falling uselessly from his mouth.

 _Are you really going to bring this up_ **_now_ ** _Raymond?_ he thought to himself, suddenly horrified he was even considering bringing up the topic in this moment. Lust was desperately vying for the lead, trying to tell him that it was just one time, and how he had not had this kind of release with Liz in nearly a month and his cock pressed hard against his pants, and her spread legs, with desire.

He peeled himself away from the hood of the car, away from a needy Liz before daring to posit. It did not matter how much he craved her, how much his loins ached for her. If this was something she did not want, or rather, did not want to risk, he would back off immediately. Momentary sexual satisfaction was absolutely not worth the cost of her feeling pressured.

“Not that now is the most opportune moment for such a discussion, but, do you remember us talking about someday trying for another child…when we had a home of our own?” He breathed deeply, inhaling the medley that was her enchanting scent mixing with distinct notes of fresh cut timber, and freshly plastered walls. He clung to the wonderful sense of comfort they provided. A knot in his gut tying itself tighter and tighter.

"Do you think, maybe, we could consider this our first attempt to grow our family?” His earlier musings of Agnes running around now mixed with her being an older sister.

* * *

“Excuse me?” Liz blinked her eyes rapidly trying to switch her mindset.

She leaned back up and planted her hands firmly into the hood of the car beside her. _More kids?_ They could barely figure out how to care for Agnes and he wanted more? Just hours ago he was begging Dom to take over their parental deeds, how would they handle two?

But the thought of another child, a planned child with Red… It made this little pause even more unbearable. Maybe a boy with his dirty blond hair and devilish smile. She couldn’t believe she was actually considering this.

One moment that was all it took. The cool metal of the expensive car licking the backs of her thighs. The spacious garage of _their_ home. The memory of Agnes playing in the yard with Dom but maybe instead, this time, a sibling? But what brought her to the current decision was the love in Red’s eyes, the _hope_. It was a look she was seeing more and more often, but right now it was more palpable than ever before.

“What happens... Happens.” She threw the wallet to the ground and wrapped her legs around him again, pulling him back into her. Her hands wrapped around the back of his neck, steadying his head. Instead of a passionate and impatient kiss, she slowed with purpose. She wanted him to understand what this meant to her, but also that they needed to do it right.

* * *

His heart was pounding in his head. He touched fingers to her shoulders, tracing their contours on her back. All her emotions were flowing into him through that kiss and melding with his own. He slid his fingers under the band of her bra, working the clasps free, never breaking that contact. Her body ground against him as she wriggled her remaining garment free.

Finally satisfied, he slid his lips from her mouth, suckling her neck then slowly descended, lingering on her pronounced breastbone. He gently fondled a soft breast before wrapping his hot mouth around an erect nipple. He could feel her chest rumbling in appreciation.

As he continued his work with his mouth, he slowly slid off his pants, the cool air brushing against his throbbing cock. He couldn’t believe this was really happening. The thought of actively trying with Liz only excited him further. He had no idea what they would do about their family, nothing about this plan had exactly gone smoothly but he didn’t care. All he could think of was that bright spark of hope that they could and would figure this out.

He cupped his hands under her ass, rolling her hips forward for a better angle. Slowly, he inserted himself, and he quieted an urge to cum right there as his senses were overwhelmed. His palms slammed against the hood as he thrust several times to regain his composure. He tucked his face back into her neck, gently teasing the skin there. She dug her fingers into the scared ridges of his back and her heels found a hold on the fleshy mound of his own ass.

He was still for a few moments as his thoughts strayed, thinking of the journey they were about to start. Wondering what they would get this time. Would it be another bubbly girl, ready to tackle the world with all of her parents charm and wit? Maybe a soft-spoken boy, always lost in deep contemplation. The combinations were endless. Who knew how long they would have to try, but they would enjoy every encounter of their attempt.

* * *

The garage door was still open and while there wasn’t anyone around, she opted for privacy. She wasn’t willing to share Red with anyone, not even a passing bird. Especially in such a momentous moment.

Would she be telling the story of how their second child was conceived in the back seat of a car? In their unfinished house? The decision rushed but thorough, just like the house, just like their life.

She tried to put her thoughts together, but if she didn’t act now she wouldn’t be able to form enough words to get her point across later. She whispered a command for the backseat in his ear as he moaned into her neck. Without breaking contact she wrapped her body around his and he fumbled and stumbled to the car door.

* * *

Getting the door open with Liz wrapped around him was no easy task. He could feel himself slipping out and he gently thrust his hips to readjust her position on his waist. With the door finally swung open, he lowered her down onto the plush seats. Reluctantly, he removed himself from her, waving his hands for her to move further inside.

Her expressions during sex had changed so much in the past few months, and even now, they was something new hiding there. The seductive glance she was now giving him was one of deep, burning passion. A desire for something more than just a roll in the sheets with the man she loved. A yearning for the unique type of intimacy that trying to conceive provided.

When she gave him enough room, he slipped in the car, decisively closing the door behind him. He took a moment to admire her body. The delicate curve from her waist to her hips. Muscular thighs that were plump in all the right places. He ran kisses the length of those perfect legs, gently teasing a swollen clitoris with his tongue. He could feel her nails digging into the soft flesh on the back of his head and she gently motioned her hips closer to him. He let his tongue slither between her dripping wet lips, eliciting a delicious moan from her as he swirled it around.

With a soft chuckle, pleased that his torment had gone the way he wanted, he slowly began to rearrange. Car sex was never easy, getting two bodies to work fluidly in that confined space was a challenge. Difficult, but not impossible, and most always worth working for.

“Lizzy, can you sit up?” he was going to try to use the seats to his advantage, wedging the two of them between the front and the back, elevating Liz from the actual seat itself. He thought it might give him a better range of motion and would be far more comfortable than just laying down.

Imagine if they did get lucky this first time? Considering the circumstances around Agnes’ conception, this would be par for the course.

* * *

It was as if she was somewhere else entirely. A space where only their bodies existed and the beating of hearts. It was blue eyes and sweat. Cries of encouragement and rough moans of long awaited pleasure. Even after it was over, they kept still. Their ragged breathing became the soundtrack to their passionate encounter. She’d never look at the backseat the same.

“We’d have to give up one of those guest rooms,” she slumped against his shoulder in exhaustion. He couldn't form coherent words in response but he wasn't keeping up with her scattered train of thought.

“They’d need their own rooms.” She didn't want to get her hopes up but she was already planning the decor for a plus one.

* * *

He rubbed his cheek against her hair, and closed his eyes, letting his breath and heart return to a normal pace. His thoughts swirled, a mess of everything that had happened in the past few months and of things to come.  Memories of lockpicks and drunken messes now transformed into shared keys and evening glasses of wine. Dark secrets and wandering in the shadows had become comfort in knowledge and a ray of light guiding their way. Her voice fluttered through his post-coital high, the words a reminder of the intentions behind their most recent actions.

“Yes they would. Let’s leave the guest rooms unfurnished for now.” The rooms were a hair smaller than the one constructed for Agnes, but it would be many years before teenagers dared argue that fact.

With half-lidded eyes, he glanced at Liz and really took in the sight. She was positively radiant, filled with the same warmth and hopes residing within his heart. Maybe he was just projecting his feelings onto her, after all, she is his heart, his life. He let his eyes close, allowing himself to drift into that space between his resting and waking self.


	3. Cultivating Relations

“It’s been two weeks we must have something!” Cooper slammed his fist on the corner of Aram’s empty desk. 

“Navabi swears she’s close,” Ressler shifted uncomfortably. He was never one for scrutiny. He was his own worst critic. 

A week ago Ressler came back from California alone, leaving Navabi behind to scope out the lead that had been looming around corners. She’d hit it off with the international office working closely with them on the Veratrum case. Donald was hesitant to leave his partner behind, Liz could hear it in his voice on the phone, but she was adamant about the decision. Something didn’t set right with Liz. Ever since the rift after the Cuba incident, their partnership was never the same. Something had happened between Aram and Samar, but it had been slowly falling apart again. Ressler and Samar were another story entirely and Liz had never really earned her trust back entirely, scars still apparent with every interaction. She was distancing herself from the team, they could all feel it coming. The tremors of change shook the office. 

“Reddington is meeting with a contact this afternoon that supposedly has information on a close associate of Veratrum. I’m not sure how reliable he is. We should follow up on the signature fragments and see if we can’t pinpoint the last location they were using as an HQ. Aram is already half way through the algorithm.” 

She’d seen her friend locked in his cave of monitors and keyboards. Lines of code ran mindlessly across the screens in a black and green haze. Blinking cursors and flashing lights gave her instant nausea after watching him pinpoint the last location of the servers. She didn’t know how he did it, but she knew they were lucky to have such talent on the team. 

“This meeting, were you invited?” Cooper raised a curious eyebrow.

“Not formally. Badges aren’t really a welcomed sight in Red’s world.” 

“Good, then pay him a visit. Don’t let him skirt around us. I want this ‘Veratrum’ and I want her now. I’m done letting Reddington play judge, jury, and executioner.” Cooper’s finality was apparent as the team broke for their individual assignments. 

“Keen, can I speak to you for a moment?” Cooper grabbed her arm reassuringly before ascending the stairs to his guard tower.

“What’s up?” This was becoming an all too familiar occurrence. She cautiously took the seat in front of the desk as his fatherly tone wrapped around her in comfort. 

“Charlene and I would like to have you and your family over for dinner.” His smile was strained but there was a genuine spark in his eye. 

“Family?” Liz nearly coughed out the word. 

“Agnes and Reddington,” he smiled. “Tomorrow night if that’s alright with you? I know it’s been a little busy around here, but Charlene insists.”

“I’ll… I’ll talk with Red. I’m sure we can make it.” A new worry gripped Liz’s mind as she began to exit the office. Why did this suddenly feel like a  _ meet the parents _ moment? And why did she suddenly seek Cooper’s approval on her mate selection?

* * *

He swirled the glass of pinot noir, pausing a moment to sniff its different notes. Hints of cherry and violets tingled his senses. Upon sipping, he found a soft fruity flavor with a delightfully fresh earthy finish. His contact was set to arrive any minute.

Halfway through his glass, he saw a young woman in a perfectly pressed business suit, clutching a leather bag enter the restaurant. He scanned the room a final time before she wandered over to his table. No one else seemed to have been alerted by her presence. He didn’t fully understand all this technical, internet thing. All he knew was it made him paranoid, and in his line of work, one could never been too careful or too observant.

“Well, what have you found?” he took another long sip of the wine, tossing a raised eyebrow over the top of the glass.

* * *

Liz looked through stacks of papers as Ressler drove through the busy downtown streets. Horns blared and cursed words slipped through conversation. Ress explained more fully what happened in California, why Samar wasn’t with them at the moment. It wasn’t like him to be so blunt about what he read into the situation but this was something that clearly bothered him.

“I feel it too,” Liz gave him a weak half smile. 

“I just hope we’re wrong,” Ressler turned off into a parking garage beneath a fancy well-known DC hotspot of fine wine and cuisine. It was lunch time, sure to be busy. 

“And you’re positive Dembe gave you the right address?” Ressler slammed the door and walked towards the parking structure elevator. 

“I didn’t give him much of choice. He would rather remain silent than lie to me.” She was sure of that much. Dembe had a soft spot for Liz, especially when it came to information about Red. The only question was, did he alert his boss to the slipping of such information?

* * *

“Hello to you too Red. Really where are your manners?” the woman was unamused with the abruptness of his tone. “You could at least ask a lady how’s she’s been or better, buy her a drink.” she put her elbows on the table, leaning forward with a mischievous smile on her face.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not interested in our old game Thalia. And my patience on this matter is exceptionally thin. Months trying to locate her. Months of dead ends and frigid leads. I know there are others out there who could help me, but none with your skills and efficiency. So please. Let’s keep it light on the flirtatiousness, because I am in no mood.” His tone was firm and cold. He and Liz had spent so few nights together in the past week between both their schedules for this case and Red trying to get the remaining touches of their house finished.

“Fine then.” she flagged down the waiter, ordering a drink for herself. Once the man was out of earshot, she extracted a laptop from her leather bag. “So here’s what we’re looking at…”

* * *

Liz watched the woman through the window lightly graze Red’s arm, tossing her head back with flirtatious laughter. Liz could feel her muscles physically contract, freezing and unable to open the door. 

“This would normally be the time I make a joke about you being jealous of Reddington’s many suitors…” Ressler stopped abruptly behind her, watching the whole scene in unison. “But I don’t think it’s funny anymore, given the circumstance.” 

Liz collected herself. She’d seen much worse with his other  _ associates _ , but things were different this time. Not that anyone could tell… There wasn’t any  _ physical _ evidence of their unison. 

She quickly pushed the nagging thoughts from her head and instead shoved open the door. Ress and Liz dripped in FBI stench as all eyes turned. The woman so lavishly placed across the table from Red couldn’t be bothered to remove her eyes from his stunning features. She was the only unturned head in the room. Red’s eyes opened wide in what Liz thought was shock at first, maybe wondering how she got here, but on second glance she recognized it as fear. Guilty fear.

* * *

Their eyes locked.   
  
He froze.   
  
His contact hadn’t noticed the latest arrivals to the restaurant. Hadn’t until she became aware of the fact that he was now entirely distracted from their conversation. Glancing over her shoulder she saw the source of his intense focus.   
  
“Lizzy…” the scowl etched on her face was of utter disdain. He needed to talk quickly to assuage her fears and worries.   
  
“Elizabeth, this is Thalia Reyes. Computer forensics expert for the CIA by day, contact and vital technical asset for me the rest of the time. And Thalia, this is Elizabeth Keen, my better half and the woman I love more than anything else"

* * *

“A bit dramatic don’t you think?” Liz lifted an eyebrow. Over compensating wasn’t helping the situation.   
  
“Agent Elizabeth Keen actually,” Liz corrected. “By day AND night.”   
  
Ressler stood uncomfortably, unsure of how he found himself in such a situation. Working with Liz made him happier than most anything but recently it had turned into a family drama. Donald Ressler was not the type of person to watch a family drama.   
  
Ress pulled back his jacket to reveal the badge firmly attached to his belt, every so slightly showing the hilt of his service weapon.   
  
“Special Agent Donald Ressler, we just have a few questions of our own.” He gave a cautioning look to Reddington.

* * *

“I’ve been told I have quite a flair for the dramatic. It’s truly a wonderful tool in my varied, verbal arsenal.” He smirked at her quip about being Agent Keen day and night. It was quite thrilling when elements of her profession bled into their personal relations.

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Donald when he flashed his FBI badge. Forever unable to turn off being an agent.

“Would you put that thing away Donald. No one likes to see it in public. I’m assuming you two are here because all your legal options have dried up worse than California in a drought.” He thrust his chin outwards, plastering a foolish grin on his face. “Well Thalia, care to indulge the man in his questions?” He could see her side-eyeing the pair.

“So the rumors  _ are _ true, you are working with the FBI Red. And you,” Thalia squinted at Liz, “I know your face.” She softly chuckled. “Oh this is too good. You two were on the run together. I get it now.” She turned her gaze to Donald. “Well Agent Ressler, I was going over matters with Red before your interruption.”

“Our interests are aligned. And I expect you to give us all the information you were set to give to Reddington. I’ll say it again, we have a few questions for you.” he had taken a step forward, blocking Liz from Red.

* * *

Liz brushed off Red’s smirk already frustrated enough with the case and other personal matters she hadn’t brought to his attention yet. Now was not the time for a hormonal rage of jealousy. She rested a hand on Ressler’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear to which he nodded in return.

Thalia gave one more careful look to Red before turning over her documents to Ressler, who took the seat beside her. She kept her eyes trained on Red even through Ress’s questions, almost daring him to slip up in front of Liz. Instead Red slid over in the booth, making space for Lizzy to sit. Without thinking twice she walked right past him and over to Dembe looming in the back corner of the restaurant. 

“What does his schedule look like tomorrow evening?” She whispered just out of earshot of the awkward trio. Dembe stayed silent for a moment, looking to Red for a hint of approval before shifting his stance to indulge her. 

“I can keep it clear.” Dembe was always quick to understand her meaning. He really cared about their relationship almost as much as the pair themselves.

“Call me when he’s done for the day. There’s some  _ things _ we need to discuss and I don’t feel like staying around to watch this.” Liz rolled her eyes dramatically. 

“What should I tell him?” His eyebrows furrowed in worry, caught between a rock and a hard place. Liz or Red. 

“Tell him I’m following up on another lead. Don’t tell him where I’m going, I need some time to handle this.” She nodded solemnly before ducking out the back door.

* * *

He didn’t care for the interaction between Liz and Donald, especially considering their past. But he didn’t dare comment on it here and now. He knew she had similar feelings about Red and any of the women he had flirtatious exchanges with. And it didn’t help that Thalia’s intensity only increased in the presence of Liz: a challenge between two cats fighting over territory.

What surprised him was when she backed down. It was very unlike Liz to not respond to such an affront. Her coat furiously swished past him. Something was troubling her. He just hoped she would disclose what to him soon. The sounds of Donald’s questions and Thalia’s answers finally cut through his thoughts.

“What of the servers that Aram and Michael had pinpointed? If she’s hiding her tracks through others computers, why were they able to single those out?” Donald had a confused expression on his face. He seemed to understand all the technobabble as much as he.

“Probably an influx of data as she sent out the roots of a new client's system or perhaps putting an upgraded system back online. I think your team might want to revisit the theory that she has people working with or for her.” She reached out to touch Red’s hands. He shot her a look and removed his hands from the table. “Agent Ressler, that document I gave you contains a list of people she has been involved with in the past few years. I’d try them first.” Donald flipped through the multi-page document, nodding his head when he came across the list she mentioned.

“I’ll show this to the rest of the team. See what they think of it. Any comments from you Reddington?” Donald looked at him, an eyebrow raised. Red met his gaze, doing everything he could to ignore the look that Thalia was sending his way. He played her game long enough to get the information he needed.

“We’re going to need to draw her out. I would send you undercover Donald, but you reek too much of FBI and not enough of the kind of client she seeks.” He cast a wicked look towards Thalia. “I seem to be in need of another technology expert. One of my former ones is no longer in my employ and her skills will be sorely missed.” With a quick movement, he was out of the booth, hat swept upon his head. He nodded to Dembe who quickly fell in stride behind him.

//

Dirt kicked up as he drove down an old and familiar road. He had been alerted by Dembe just a few hours ago that Liz needed to see him and that his evening had been cleared. He didn’t appreciate her going behind his back and arranging things for him like that but he knew it to be her reaction to his contact yesterday. The rustic cabin came into view and he had no idea what lay in wait for him.

* * *

Liz pulled on one of her nice cashmere sweaters, the neck flowing down in rifts and curves as the loose turtleneck spilled over. The dark purple fabric was just enough color to pop with her slim black jeans. Putting the final touches on her hair, she heard the car roll up the driveway. Luckily, Red was always dressed for any occasion, including an unexpected dinner with their boss and his wife. She should have told him, they should have talked yesterday, but signals were crossed, leads chased, and time slipped through their fingers once again. 

She didn’t want to bring up such a topic mere hours before she’d be standing on Cooper’s doorstep, but it felt like she was hiding something by staying silent. Begrudgingly, she grabbed her purse and headed out to the den where Agnes and Dom were playing with toy trucks in the floor. 

“I promise we won’t be out too late,” Dom cut her off before she could finish the sentence.

“Elizabeth, enjoy yourself. But bring me home that child in one piece, understand?” He smiled, something she rarely saw when Reddington was around.

Dom scooped up the child happily with creaky bones and handed her carefully to her mother. He gave her a light peck on the cheek, causing the child to squeal, and opened the door for the pair. Red was standing cold faced and confused, hand raised to knock. 

* * *

His jaw limply hung at the sight that greeted him. If he wasn’t confused prior to arriving as to what Liz had planned for them tonight, he definitely was seeing her dressed as she was. Even in his mildly confused state, it didn’t go unnoticed that she had finally taken his words to heart about her winter coloring. It wasn’t a top he had seen on her before, but he was glad to see it now: she looked gorgeous.   
  
She cocked her hip to one side as she balanced Agnes in her arms. The darling child all smiles and looking equally as adorable as her mother. Liz had dressed her in the cutest little dress and matching tights, all topped of with a sparkly bow atop her head. Moments later, the two were wrapped in their coats and he was escorting them to his car.   
  
No matter what he had tried. Dembe has remained tight-lipped as to what Liz had planned for the night. Starting the engine of the car, he waited to confront Liz about what was happening after she had securely fastened Agnes in her car seat, and she herself was safely buckled.   
  
“Care to tell me what’s going on tonight?” He didn’t much enjoy surprises, even less for ones involving Liz…their track-record for surprises wasn’t exactly one to be proud of. Dom’s house slowly fading away in the rear-view mirror.

* * *

“Cooper and Charlene invited us to dinner. As if we weren’t awkward enough in the post office…” Liz rattled off the Cooper’s address without thinking.

Nervousness gripped her throat as she uncomfortably shifted in her seat. The seatbelt cut into her neck and burrowed into her waist. She was painstakingly aware of every sensory input within the next few minutes as she worked up the courage to tell him.

To tell him they’d failed time and time again. That she still wasn’t pregnant. Another failed test and tears dripping to the bathroom floor. Alone, without him. The one thing they agreed to do together. The one thing they desperately wanted. The one thing that was going to be planned…and they couldn’t do it.

She couldn’t help but to think it was a sign. She had tried again just before leaving for dinner and still the negative sign glared her in the face. She was hoping for good news to take to dinner, maybe make things less awkward, instead she was left with the lingering thoughts of failure. Of disappointment.

Red kept his eyes on the road, only briefly looking back in the rear view mirror with a smile on his face. Aggie made him so happy. What if she’d never be able to give him another child? The road suddenly became very dark. The trees appeared to be bending in towards the road, swallowing the vehicle whole. Swallowing her whole. She’d never felt smaller in her life.

* * *

“Sounds lovely. I hear Charlene is a wonderful chef.” He dragged his words out, noting Liz’s final comment and tone.

He thought of them all having dinner was almost comical when you considered both his and Harold’s place in the world. But he knew that Liz held a special place in the man’s heart. He had taken her under his wing her very first day, wanting to protect her, afraid of what Red wanted with both the FBI and her. It always appeared to him that Harold and Liz had a wonderful relationship. Now, he was concerned. Why was she so nervous?

“What’s troubling you Liz?” It hadn’t gone unnoticed by him how uncomfortable she was.

Her hands constantly pulled at the seat belt, her whole body restlessly shifted. Futile attempts to get comfortable. To make one at peace with the torments of mind and body.

He knew the feeling well and it pained him to see her in such a torn up state.

* * *

She looked backwards to Agnes once herself, the belt shifting over her shoulder and digging into her skin through the sweater. Her eyes were large, questioning and watchful. She may not be able to understand everything they were saying but their tone of voice wasn’t going unnoticed.

This wasn’t something she could will into submission or analyze into conformance. This was unlike any problem she had faced. It was going to require a new set of skills to deal with. These were emotions she didn’t quite understand. Rationally, she shouldn’t be upset. It was only the first test, well the first  _ three _ spread out over the last few days. All negatives glaring her in the face. She didn’t know why she was so angry or why she was so utterly frustrated with herself and yet here she was. She was being  _ irrational _ .

She was sure Red could see a mix of God knows what on her face. It shouldn’t be this hard to tell him, maybe it didn’t even need to be said. Maybe after the third or fourth test she could say something, hold it off until then. But the silence ate away at her sanity until she produced words.

“It was negative…” She whispered. She looked out the window, half stewing in disappointment and half in anger.

“I don’t know why I’m angry, it’s only the first shot.” She kept her voice light, letting the internalized anger seep through her eyes and channel into a death glare at the looming trees and passing scenery.

* * *

He caught glimpses of her continued fidgeting in the seat next to him. The way she tugged on the seatbelt, trying to get it to sit just right or how she continued to steal glances towards Agnes, before finally turning around to check on the child.

When she spoke, he was confused at first, not fully grasping what she was saying. What could be negative that could cause such restlessness in her? Then, her words hit him.

_ It was negative….it’s only the first shot… _

She had already taken a pregnancy test, and, judging by her variable tone, had probably already went through an entire box.  They had only been trying for two weeks, and in those two weeks, they had intimate unions four...maybe five times? He could think of a thousand reasons for her to not be upset, but there could be only one explanation for why she felt such anger mixed with disappointment. Looking to the rearview mirror, his eyes settled upon Agnes, their gorgeous, but unintentional first born.

“I can imagine why you’re angry. Our prior experience isn’t exactly one of multiple attempts and copious amounts of planning.” he let his eyes return forwards as the car rolled to a stop at the end of the driveway. He threw it into park, and reached across the armrest to take her hand in his. “I would never presume to understand how you feel Elizabeth. Attempting to conceive is hard on all couples, but the effects upon the women are perhaps the strongest. Even more so when those attempts turn out to be fruitless.” he gently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Please give it more time. Do not feel anger, or shame, or fear when those negatives inevitably arise. Let me be right there next to you...to hold you and tell you that we will be okay.” his gaze softly fell upon the evening sun lighting her shadowed face.

He wanted this to be an enjoyable experience for them both, not something that might rip them apart.

* * *

Red unlocked her fingers from the death grip on the lower seat belt resting on her lap, still stroking her knuckles soothingly. The gesture was more supportive and comforting than his words could ever be.

She knew he was right. Of course he was right. For everything Raymond was and  _ is _ , his words were his greatest tool and his greatest weapon. He hit every right psychological spot, giving her validation, comfort, promise, and support. Sometimes she wanted to turn her profiling mind off and just accept his words. But alas she couldn’t stop thinking, her mind was in full gear, anxiety for the evening driving it more than anything.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She sighed and checked one more time on Agnes. She was thoroughly distracted with her stuffed elephant and unaware of the conversation at hand. 

“We’re going to be late if you keep sitting here staring at me like that,” she cocked an eyebrow trying to lighten the mood, sniffing a bit to compose herself.

She couldn’t appear on Cooper’s doorstep with tear stains and bloodshot eyes. She wasn’t exactly excited about the Dad protection vibes she was getting earlier from Harold, but the sight of her crying wouldn’t make their evening any easier.

* * *

“You have nothing to apologize for Lizzy.” His eyes and thoughts lingered on her a moment longer before shifting the car back into drive. Though he had tried his hardest to quash her fears, it was evident that this wouldn’t be the last time they were to have such a discussion.

The familiar sounds of a giggly Agnes beating up her poor elephant floated to the front of the car and he couldn’t help but to smile. It might be a long, bumpy road to a second child, but hopefully everything they had with each other, and little Agnes, would be enough to pull them through.

//

Rounding the corner, the sight of the Cooper’s stately house greeted them. The rather large, historic home was a very fitting styling for the couple. He still had no idea what had prompted this dinner invite. Judging by the way Liz shifted in her seat as the drove past, she was as clueless as he.

Finally locating a spot to park, Liz pulled Agnes from the backseat. The three of them silent as they trod the few hundred yards to the front door. He pressed the doorbell, and heard the muffled sounds of Harold and Charlene calling to each other.


	4. Slice of the Action

Agnes ran full speed around the wooden floors of the house. Since this was still a novelty to the child she was always amused at the mere sight of things moving quickly. She fell quite often, giving Charlene and Harold frequent shock, but Aggie always picked herself right back up and tried again.

“Agnes slow down,” Liz called from the living room, a glass of red wine in hand.

Harold kept his eyes on the young toddler quickly reeking havoc in the new and unexplored space. As often as he could, he stole glances at Reddington who sat spread out and confident on the couch. He would have never thought he’d see that notable black fedora hanging on his coat wrack in such a context.

“Do they always start walking this early?” Charlene broke the muggy silence that hung in the air.

“Dom and I joke that she learned to run before she could walk,” Liz chuckled uncomfortably.

“It seems she’s ahead of schedule, though I’m not surprised giving her lineage.” Cooper smiled to Elizabeth wholeheartedly.

Instantly she sighed with relief. Cooper always brought her a comfort she couldn’t quite get from anyone else. He believed in her from the start and has continued to stay by her side through every tough and questionable decision she has made. Considering their professional relationship, Liz wasn’t quite sure what the night had in store. Work certainly couldn’t be discussed considering Red’s _methods_ and Charlene’s lack of clearance. But on the other hand… Talking about her new suburban dream didn’t seem appealing either.

“Charlene, did you do something with your hair? I love it.” Liz took a large sip of her drink. Her small talk was a bit rusty, but practice makes perfect… She cringed at the thought. Another gulp slid down her throat as she shifted beside Red on the couch.

* * *

Watching Agnes attempt to run was one of the more humorous things he had witnessed in recent memory. He smiled, admiring her ambition and determination. They were going to have their hands full as she grew older, he could already tell. Between he and Liz, they were already fighting against the genetic lottery that she would be a laid back, mellow child.

He could feel that Liz was quite uncomfortable. She shifted almost as badly as he when unable to quiet inner turmoil. In an attempt to comfort her, he wrapped his arm around her and gently stroked her shoulder. He always thought Liz and Harold had a very good relationship, the man had taken her under his wing when Red had first come forward and demanded to speak only to her.

The more he thought on their relationship, the more the bigger picture came into focus. Harold had taken quite a liking to Liz, wanting to see her grow and succeed with the FBI. But it was so much more than that, why else would he have invited the three of them to dinner?

He watched Liz’s facial muscles move as she talked with Charlene. Watched as slowly she found her footing with the woman and settled into a rhythm of small talk. The hairs on his neck began to stand on end when he realized he was being stared at. Pulling his gaze away from Liz, he realized Harold was analyzing him with a stern, almost paternal look.

Agnes came tearing into the room once again, tripping over her own two feet. But this time, she erupted into tears. He jumped from the couch, scooping the child into his arms.

“Shh shhuhh, come here. Let daddy see what’s wrong.” he softly cooed at her, giving her a thorough twice-over. A small red bump had begun to form on her head. “Might you have an ice pack or a bag of frozen vegetables?” He looked to the Coopers. The shocked look on Charlene’s face softened when their eyes met.

“I think we have something that’ll work.” She smiled, gracefully rising and leading the way to the kitchen. He followed, humming a soothing tune to Agnes, trying to quiet her continued stream of tears.

* * *

Charlene, Red, and Agnes exited into the kitchen where delicious smells continued to filter out into the air. Cooper took the seat across from her on the opposite couch, placing one hand on his knee and his forearm on the other. His complexion and warmth melted into his dark grey sweater. His whole demeanor screamed _dad_. Liz waited for him to speak, but the seconds blurred into minutes and still his lips hadn’t even twitched into so much as a smile.

“You’re… assessing him.” Her statement was enough to shift him back.

“Yes, I am. Does that make you uncomfortable?” Harold’s deep parental bartone hummed through the living room. He was unafraid of his own admission.

“You already know him, you know more than most. I guess I’m just confused as to why we’re _really_ here.” She was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, always on edge.

“Can’t I invite a friend and colleague over for a delicious meal prepared by my lovely wife?” His tone was jovial, almost as if he found the situation funny. She wasn’t amused, her face growing vulnerable.

“Elizabeth, if Reddington intends to stay in your life in this capacity I need to know he’s up to the task. I can’t see you hurt by this man, especially given his track record in this department. You’ve read the file. He’s not exactly white picket fence, family man material.” Cooper leaned forward reaching his hand out across the coffee table over her’s.

“Relax. This isn’t work. This isn’t life or death. Guns aren’t drawn. Take a breath and know that I have your best interests at heart.” He smiled sincerely, the lines of his eyes scrunching, the freckles on his face turning up happily. “Besides Charlene missed your beautiful baby girl.”

“Just Charlene? Agnes seems pretty fond of her Uncle Coop,” Liz smiled teasingly. She melted back into the couch with ease. Red had no idea what he was in for with this evening. She wondered if Charlene had him equally cornered in the kitchen. The Coopers were quite the united front after all.

* * *

 He could hear Charlene rummaging through the freezer, trying to locate something suitable to use as an ice pack for the rapidly forming lump on Agnes’ forehead. He gently danced about the kitchen, doing everything he could to calm and quiet the upset child. Slowly her cries became quieter and quieter until only a gentle stream of tears ran down her pink cheeks. He brushed hair from her face to get a better look at the bump. True to her bloodline, she had done one hell of a good job.

“Ah! I knew it was in here somewhere. Here you are Raymond.” She extracted a semi-solid gel freezer pack and a clean dish towel from a nearby drawer. Cautiously, she wrapped the items together and handed them to him.

“Thank you Charlene.” He carefully pressed the lumpy mess to Agnes’ head. He continued to sway and sing to hear as the frown on her face slowly began to turn around. The longer he stayed in the room, the more conscious he became of all the smells tempting his senses. He knew Carlene was an incredible cook, but this smelled even better than her usual fare.

“I cannot even begin to tell you how wonderful everything smells. Harold is lucky to have a woman such as you in his life. Maybe you can give Liz a few tips...her idea of gourmet cooking is unburnt toast.” A soft laugh parted his lips as his dancing brought him back near the freezer. Whenever he thought of Liz and cooking, all he could think of was the numerous phone calls he had received from Baz and Dembe about Liz’s many failed attempts.

“She’s lucky to have you too you know. Care for a glass of wine? Harold had me pull out something special for tonight.” She reached for the corkscrew and dusted off the bottle.

“I’ll wait until we settle down to eat. My arms are a bit full at the moment.” He swung back around to face Charlene. “Thank you again for inviting us over tonight. It was a pleasant, if not unexpected surprise.” He sent her the sweetest, most innocent smile he could muster. He had a feeling he was being sized up. For what exactly, he wasn’t sure. The only thing he was certain of was he wanted to have Liz beside him again, so they field the coming questions together. Hopefully Harold wasn’t already laying into her.

* * *

 Only Red returned from the kitchen, still holding the ice pack to Aggie’s head. The child leaned forward from his arms and reached out to Liz.  
  
“Momma,” the girl repeated until she was close enough to leap daringly into her arms.   
  
Liz lifted an eyebrow to Red making sure everything was okay to which he simply nodded and smiled. His smile reassured her more than anything and after the talk with Cooper she was even more determined to have a good evening. She swayed with Agnes in her arms, kissing the soft hair atop her head.   
  
“Harold, dinner’s almost ready. Can you set the table?” Charlene peeked her head in from the kitchen. With a polite smile the tall man excused himself, leaving the new family alone.

* * *

No matter how many times the Coopers had refused, he insisted upon helping them ready the table for dinner. Charlene had prepared a wondrous meal for the five of them and it was the least he could do. He grabbed the bottle of wine Charlene had brought out earlier, smiling when he saw the label, 2013 Château Haut-Brion.

It had been a combination ‘thank you’ and ‘welcome to the family’ gift marking the beginning of a most beautiful relationship between Red and the Task Force. He chuckled remembering the sarcastic, but very endearing note he had attached. It pleased him that Harold had saved the bottle for a special occasion and that this evening warranted the pulling of such a bottle from the reserves.

Smells from the kitchen now poured into the dining room as Carlene brought dishes out. It must have taken her hours to prepare the feast they were about to consume: a delectable roast with a red wine demi-glace, roasted root vegetables rich with cloves of garlic, and apple-walnut salads tossed ever so gently with balsamic dressing. And, unless his eyes deceived him, he thought he saw a blueberry crumb pie resting on the counter when he was there earlier with Agnes.

He watched as Liz set a place for their child, and saw that Charlene had even prepared something special for her. They were the most non-traditional family in the world. To anyone else, whatever it was that existed between he, Liz, and the rest of their cohorts must look like a chaotic mess. But he wouldn’t want it any other way. For the first time all evening, he let his guard down.

“Shall we dine? I’d hate to see any of this get cold. I can’t even fathom the amount of time and love that went into preparing something so exquisite.” He gently squeezed Liz’s hand before taking a seat on the other side of Agnes, the child seated between them.

* * *

Liz didn’t quite know everything that was on the table except for meat and vegetables, but it smelled amazing so she didn’t much mind. As Red began passing around the dishes, Liz leaned over to cut Agnes’ chicken nuggets. She was going to ask how they knew they were Aggie’s favorite, but given Cooper’s job description she wasn’t surprised.

Red waited patiently for Lizzy to fill her plate before he would begin eating. Liz nodded her head for him to start anyway, she didn’t really know where to begin. Ever the gentleman he continued to wait and now the others were catching on. When Liz finished preparing Aggie’s meal Harold raised his glass in a toast.

“To Liz and Agnes,” he smiled. “I know it hasn’t been the most _conventional_ start to a family, given everything that’s happened, but look where you are now.” His eyes stopped roaming the room and landed on Raymond.

“To new beginnings.” The words rang out with sincerity, but his expression read as a warning intended solely for Reddington.

Out of the corner of her eye Liz could see Red tip his glass in some form of acknowledgement. It was as if the boys were having some unspoken conversation her and Charlene couldn’t be more oblivious to.

Aggie broke the uncomfortable stare down and began stuffing food in her face giving them all a good laugh. Liz leaned down again whispering words of warning and manners, grabbing a hand and helping her slow down. Liz looked over to Red with a raised eyebrow, a smile creeping across her face.

“She gets this from you.” Both Agnes and Red looked over to her identically, eyes wide and innocent. They were going to be trouble, already in cahoots and too adorable to be punished.

* * *

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Lizzy.” He smirked and feigned innocence as he regained his composure. Maybe he would concede a bit, it was always fun to stir to pot and see what happens.

With a final sideways smirk, he turned from Liz to look at the food upon his own plate. The perfectly blended wine, with its rich tobacco and fruit flavors add perfectly to the moist morsels he ate.

“The flavors you put into this roast are exquisite Charlene. We must have an evening to share recipes.” the thought of them sharing another evening like this was pleasing to him. Friends and family blending together until there was no difference.

* * *

Liz poked at her food tentatively. She didn’t have much of an appetite through the small talk. She was polite and courteous, thankful for the daughter’s occasional adorable interruptions, but something still wasn’t sitting right. Quickly the conversation started to take a turn towards work even though everyone present knew to stay away. They hadn’t seen eye to eye on the way to handle their most recent blacklister and it had been apparent. For weeks now, Reddington had been off doing his own investigation. Liz assumed he was also planning on how to deal with Serena. He was keeping the FBI out of the loop for this one.

“Reddington, Liz tells me you have some new _methods_.” He chewed a bite of the roast thoroughly and calmly, his eyes giving nothing away.

“Harold,” Charlene warned. Red gave a questioning eyebrow, finishing his own bite and taking a long sip of wine.

“I heard you’re putting that analog cage of yours to use again for this case. Or as the boys around the office like to call it the Post Office -2.0. Setting up your own operation and keeping us out of the loop is a dangerous game.”

Had Liz mentioned that? She was momentarily surprised Harold knew that her and Red’s little mini HQ was even still in use, let alone currently. With all Serena was capable of, Red wasn’t taking any chances of compromising a lead. He was more paranoid than usual. She didn’t mind the extra steps because she could see he was on to something.

Recently he’d made a big discovery, connecting some dots he tip toed around, presumably so she wouldn’t share with Cooper. Her job came first, Red knew that all too well, but their team work still moved cases along faster than either could apart. Cooper couldn’t deny that. He was baiting. While this was a pleasant family dinner, he clearly had multiple other motives and it all started with that talk on the couch. She swallowed a large gulp, eyes narrowing in observance.

* * *

He cast a glance past his daughter, blissfully unaware of what was happening around her, to her mother. He saw the shell-shocked expression on her face and watched as every conversation and interaction she had with Harold in the last several weeks played on fast-forward in her head. Their eyes locked and the panic that filled her eyes became more evident.

Lately, he and Liz had held very few conversations involving work that wasn’t in the presence of the other members of the Task Force. They had been wanting their time alone to be just that: time between the two of them as they continued to blaze a trail towards a peaceful family life all their own.

“You’ve seen Serena’s dossier. Would you really want to be connected to any kind of digital interface with the knowledge we have on her? Add to that the fact that we’ve already dealt with two moles in your Post Office. Surely you must recall our most recent incident with the Thrushes. I find the extra precautions a necessity.” With a dramatic pause, he finished drinking his wine.

“Sometimes one needs to step back from the modern day technological luxuries you often take for granted. Not saying that the former days of clandestine operations was really all that golden, but I find that most people nowadays overlook the old ways.”

It was true. How many headlines had they all seen in the past couple decades of various organizations using these old school technologies and going nearly undetected by their governments until it was too late? He had honestly lost count. It was usually those who with the supposed latest and greatest who were more easily caught and intercepted.

He intended on dealing with this Blacklister on his own terms. He had mostly played by the FBI’s rules with Otto. Right up until the usual bureaucratic nonsense tied their hands and then he resorted to his usual methodology. He could already see the roadblocks being constructed for this case and he was going to make certain that he was ahead of that curve.

“I’m really not in the mood to mix business and pleasure Harold. If you have any concerns in regards to my methods of operation, you know where to find me during working hours.” He sliced into the meat on his plate, eyes never leaving Harold’s.

This was quickly turning into a rather interesting evening.

* * *

“I know if I continue this conversation I’ll be forced to make my bed on the couch this evening.” He gave a sympathetic smile to Charlene. “But Reddington let me leave you with this friendly warning.” Cooper’s tone changed from something of fatherly indulgence to that of an upset business partner.

“If you plan on cutting me and the FBI out of this one, I’ll be forced to make tough decisions. Decisions that won’t set well with the family you’re making for yourself here. Don’t go after her alone and don’t drag my best agent into your dark world.”

Liz physically began choking on the food in her mouth, unable to process what was really being said. Instantly she had two hands on her back, one from Cooper and one from Red, trying to soothe her back to normality.

“Good Lord Harold, I told you this was a bad idea.” Charlene growled frustratedly. “I’m sorry Raymond, I tell him to leave work at the door. With a job like this, it’s hard to find the line. I’m sure you understand.”

Liz finally caught her breath and looked over at her boss.

“He’s not dragging me into anything. Despite the mess he’s left in his wake on multiple occasions, you and I both know the Bureau wouldn’t have closed even a fourth of these cases without him.” She felt suddenly protective of Red.

Whether or not she agreed with him every step of the way or even _accepted_ the things he’d done, she wouldn’t discredit the good he’s done for the Task Force. In this case the end really does justify the means. She knew that from the beginning. Having a criminal’s hands drenched in filth while the FBI threw new ones behind bars, that was something she could live with. But now he wasn’t just some criminal. He wasn’t just some informant with an unnecessary obsession with her. He wasn’t just Reddington in all his peculiar glory. He was the father of her child and the man she was building a future with. She realized now more than ever they needed to talk about the balance of their work and the discrepancies in their methods. They had a child to worry about now after all.

“Maybe not,” Harold conceded. He took a moment to pause, putting together the phrasing of words he’d been trying to say all night. “I’ve grown fond of you Reddington, but if this new information I’ve collected is true… There’s nothing I can do for you. I can’t protect you from this.”

Liz cocked her head to the side. Clearly she was missing something. Familiar pains crept up her spine and she felt the sensation of secrets again. Lies dripped down from her ears and caressed her cheeks with rosy ignorance. Her skin crawled with skepticism and distrust, immediately she was thrown on her guard again, but this time she didn’t know who it was directed at.

A knowing look exchanged between the boys in a blink of an eye solidified that Red knew what Cooper was referring to. But just as quickly as the acknowledgement came, it disappeared, and Red’s regular poker face returned in it’s stead. Cooper sighed looking over one more time to Charlene who was being very vocal with her disapproval of where the conversation had gone for the evening.

“Would you excuse me,” Charlene smiled and cleared a few plates from the table. She disappeared to the kitchen clearly reading the signs. Cooper was going to get an earful tonight. Liz gripped the knife in her left hand a bit harder, her scar itching at her skin.

* * *

“I do hope she’s getting that delicious crumble. Does she make it on the sweeter side Harold? I find myself not wanting anything particularly tart right now.” He flashed a look to Harold, one of discontent. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see how uncomfortable Liz was and it bothered him to see her in such a mood.

All those years ago, when he surrendered to the FBI, he knew he would have to try coloring in the lines with a touch more frequency. He hadn’t been particularly successful in that endeavor. More often than not, he just did as he pleased but in recent years he had tried to be more cooperative, at Liz’s request. Frankly, it wasn’t his style, and he had been opting to take the more creative approach: finding different ways to get his information to the FBI without them knowing he was the source. Amazing how quickly hands can become untied and ropes discarded upon the ground.

But it seems Harold was catching on to his game. And was entirely not amused.

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy whatever is put in front of you. Can’t always get your pick of the pie Reddington.” The men exchanged smirks, each fully aware that they would have to sit down and talk business for real, and not just in subtle commentary and shifted eyes.

Charlene returned moments later, breaking the tension that had settled in the room. She passed Harold a buzzing phone, which he waved away, but she was persistent. “I know we don’t like calls during dinner, but it’s the third time.” As he took the phone from her hand, it ceased to vibrate. Quickly checking the call logs, he redialed the number as he excused himself.

“Trouble in paradise? I don’t envy the man his position. Don’t envy mine either, but it comes with some delightful perks.” Charlene had returned once again, this time with the wonderful looking dessert. Just as she began to serve slices of the crumble, Harold returned, a sullen look on his face.


	5. A Little Birdie

Cooper sat silently at the front, across from Dembe. It had occurred to her that the two men had never really had a conversation until now, but they seemed to be getting along fine. Cooper switched between making furious phone calls and diving through the case information Red had stored on the plane, Dembe a watchful guide over Red’s sercrets. It took some twisting but Liz had convinced Red to share his intel with Cooper at least, and at Cooper’s discretion, to the rest of the Task Force.

Lucky enough for them, Cooper made a connection that changed the outcome of the case. After the interrupting and insistent phone calls from Samar, they were in a rush to get to California as fast as possible. Samar’s leads had finally paid off, but they would’ve had no idea what they were walking into if it wasn’t for Red’s recently acquired list.

With Red had been unable to narrow down a single name to look for on the list of known associates before Samar’s intel. Now the Taskforce knew what they were walking into which happened to be the lair one of the most dangerous grifters on the West Coast. Red hadn’t been acquainted with the man they were hunting who went by the alias Zahn, a shock to all aboard.

Zahn was in direct contact to Serena. He was her go to for physical product retrieval when her digital world wasn’t enough. Serena was after something of both physical and digital importance, so a phone call was placed. Now they had their first real lead. They were getting closer and it was only a matter of time. The real question that hung in the air was how Serena would be handled, or more accurately, _who_ would be handling her.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Liz cornered Red in the secluded back of the jet. After all the case talk they still had two hours before they would touch down in San Francisco. She’d let the dinner conversation between Cooper and Red go untouched thus far, but now she was ready for answers.

* * *

This case was taking turn after wild turn, leads branching off to other leads before finding themselves back at the beginning. It was a cruel labyrinth, one whose routes were constantly being manipulated by Serena. And whoever this new person was that they had supposedly located.  
  
The man called Zahn deeply perplexed Red. From all that they had gathered, the man was a relative newcomer to the shadows of Red’s world, yet he had already established quite a reputation for himself. What he didn’t understand was how one got to his status without making a few ripples and as far as they could tell, he had no known aliases.  
  
He looked out the window of the jet, watching as they rolled over pillowy clouds. The views from the sky always amazed him. The world as most people knew it melted away, fading into a stunning canvas of blues, whites, and greys. No matter the difficulties and tensions he was facing, such a sight was welcome and eased his troubled soul.  
  
But Liz’s words pierced through his momentary calm. He wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted to talk about, but he wondered if it had something to do with the fact that they were now dashing across the country in his jet. Accompanied this time by Harold. Whose house they had just been dining in. Charlene volunteered to watch over Agnes while the three of them attended to business matters. Liz fussing like always over the child before parting. He knew it still hurt her to be parted from the child for ever a short period of time.  
  
“What is it you wanted to talk about Lizzy?” His stormy blues meeting the ferocious intensity of hers.

* * *

“You know exactly what I want to talk about, don’t play coy.” Liz pulled him from his seat to the back area of the plane where they couldn’t be heard.  
  
“Do I get the translated version of what happened between you and Cooper tonight at dinner or am I stuck analyzing speech patterns in my head?”  
  
She didn’t have time to play games. If something was up between Red and Cooper, of all people, that meant it was big. Big enough for Coop to call an intervention, to investigate for himself. He wasn’t looking at Red the same way anymore, even the plane ride was more cautious. There was something she was missing and some new information only her boss had acquired. Maybe something Red is worried about given his shifty nature on the way out of the house. 

* * *

“You really should be careful with these fishing expeditions my dear Lizzy. You never know what might be hiding in those dark places. I’ve got a good friend Marcus who can attest to that.” He shifted in his seat, radiating a calm, casual air. He wasn’t in the mood to have this conversation. Liz needed to stay focused on what was currently happening with the case and not the behind the scenes workings of he and Harold’s relation.  
  
“I had just finished some business in North Carolina, sold some product I had recently acquired. Marcus was my delivery expert for that trip. Big burly man, hair a fluffy mess, week old stubble growing…you get the idea. We spent a great deal of time talking about fishing during the process. After we successfully completed the transaction, he invited me to stay a few days. Said he and his friends would be going noodling that weekend.” He adjusted his position once more, now leaning on the arm of the seat, closing the distance between he and Liz.  
  
“I had no idea what he was talking about. And when he mentioned another name it goes by, I’ll admit my mind wandered a bit. As he explained it to me I couldn’t help but laugh. Shoving ones fist inside a catfish’s burrow, attempting to extract the creature with nothing but your own hand. Of course I had to stay to witness such an event.” It had been quite worthwhile to spend the couple days relaxing. He got a most delicious meal out of it, he always enjoyed regional dishes and the variety of catfish preparations he had consumed was an interesting journey for the palate.  
  
“So the bunch of go out. It was absolutely fascinating to watch. Very dangerous. The obvious being from actually wrangling one of the catfish but the less obvious is when something unexpected is hiding in the hole. Poor Marcus shot out of the water screaming. A snake had been hiding in the hole and took a nice bite out of him. By the time we got to the hospital, his hand had swollen to three times its usual size and turned the ugliest shade of purple-red I had ever seen.” He rolled his eyes back down from their unfocused, storytelling gaze to Liz’s blank expression.

* * *

“Sparknotes, you know… The thing that makes the original version shorter and easier to understand.” Liz rolled her eyes. Short and quick wasn’t in this man’s vocabulary.  
  
“Before your time,” she waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll take your warning, but this discussion isn’t over.”  
  
The intercom of the plane crackled to life.  
  
“Mr. Reddington, please approach the cockpit.” A British accented pilot burst over the speaker at too loud a volume.  
  
“As if on cue.” Liz raised an impatient eyebrow.

* * *

“Where’s the fun in the short version?” He looked towards the ceiling of the plane at the sound of the pilots voice.

“Ahhhh, music to my ears. Looks like we will have to continue this conversation later Lizzy.” He patted his hand on her thigh as he moved past her to the cockpit. While he was extremely thankful for the interruption, he knew it was just adding fuel to Liz’s fire.  
  
Harold peered over the tops of glasses as Red walked by, pulled away from the fistful of documents for a moment. He pushed the cockpit door open. His entrance greeted by a curious co-pilot.  
  
Liz waited a minute for a quick return and still nothing. Just as Liz turned to catch Cooper’s eye the plane shook. Liz grasped onto the chair on her way forward toward the front of the plane.  
  
“What in God’s name is happening?” Harold’s papers fell to the ground as the plane continued to shake.

* * *

Red rested a hand on the back of the pilot’s seat, trying to understand what the men were telling him. They only part he understood what that they were no longer the ones flying. They were completely at the mercy of some unknown entity. A crawling sensation began at the back of his neck as hairs stood on end. He had a sneaking suspicion who might be involved. But how would they have known?

“What’s happening, shouldn’t be possible. There are protocols in place to prevent this from happening.” They started to rattle on about the computer systems, creeping closer towards talking in a language he didn’t understand. He acknowledged what they were saying and quickly turned tail and returned to the fuselage.

He strode past Harold and Dembe, faces plastered with looks of confusion and concern. His eyes locked with Liz, who was trying her hardest to remain the perfect picture of composure.

“Pilots have lost control of the plane. I need your help Lizzy. Have any bright ideas?” He looked at her, eyes wide open. This was something far beyond him, maybe even beyond her, but at least she might have a better understanding. Might see some little detail that could keep them in the air.

Keep them all safe.

* * *

Panic. A natural first reaction. She could feel the chills run down her spine as he mind quickly snapped to Agnes. Looking into Red’s eyes she could see their little girl’s. An orphan in the wake of a fiery plane crash. She couldn’t let that happen.  
  
That snapped her right into action mode, her attentive and observant mind running into overdrive. Time seemingly began to slow as the plane continued to shake and tip forward, sliding it’s passengers into walls and arm rests.  
  
“Seatbelts,” she called and pointed to Cooper and Dembe.  
  
“Cooper make a call to Aram, see if he can’t get into the plane and see where the hack is coming from. Hopefully he can disrupt the signal long enough for us to get control back.” She silently prayed that whoever was flying their plane didn’t want them dead, just delayed. Possibly injured. If not, surely they would have been miles deep in a nose dive by now.  
  
“Dembe, this plane still has to follow regular inspection and flight regulations right? Check for parachutes and inflation devices. Tandem if necessary.”  
  
She stumbled forward, almost falling into Red’s arms as she pushed him back into the cockpit.  
  
“We need to find a way to contact them… Open a channel.” She barked her final order to her captive audience in the cockpit.  
  
Red’s eyes were still large in clear confusion. He was more sorted for a shotgun or pistol, something he can physically hold and see, not some invisible code about to sabotage his plane. Even this ghost story was a bit over Liz’s head. They needed Aram or Michael ASAP.

* * *

Time was a distorted mess, slowing down to a crawl…streaking past like a rogue lightning bolt…everything was happening at once and his mind was having difficulties processing.

When Liz fell into him, all he could think was of how terrified he was to lose her. His life be damned, her’s mattered the most. Everything was always about keeping her safe and right now, the light he was seeing wasn’t a glimmer of hope.  
  
Her pushing him back to the cockpit brought his focus back to what was currently happening. They were losing altitude at an increasingly alarming rate. Looking out the front, the clouds were becoming thinner and thinner as glimpses of the landscape below began to appear.  
  
The co-pilot tried to open the communication channels. After slamming his hands on the console, he turned around shaking his head. His efforts were for naught. Whoever was doing this wanted to make sure they were alone.  
  
Dembe burst into the already cramped cabin space, parachutes in hand. While he was elated to see the man and the devices, he was distracted but an antenna poking out of the man’s pocket. The satellite phone…  
  
“Dembe make sure Elizabeth gets a chute on…. **now** .“ He grabbed Liz’s arm and dragged the two of them close as possible to the man. Once Red had handed her off, he extracted the phone from Dembe’s pocket. He dialed the Post Office.  
  
“Michael, we have a situation, Agent Keen will catch you up.” He held the phone close to her ear as Dembe tried to work the parachute on to Liz.

* * *

A parachute was being shoved onto her shoulders and a phone thrown into her hand. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the pilots.

“No, total loss.” She screamed over the panicking and insisting beeps of the unstable dials. “No I don’t think so, let me check.” Liz leaned over the pilot and flipped a few switches. No lights flashed in response.

“Are you _sure_ Aram said that?” Liz’s voice dropped to barely a whisper.

Red’s eyes watched her cautiously as Dembe secured the final straps and buckles on her last resort safety device. She closed the phone and shoved it blindly back to Dembe. She observed the pilots carefully, the sound drowning in her focus. The pilot’s worried eyes flashed from dial to dial, hands frantically running over switches and handles. Sweat was visible on his brow as the ground became closer and closer to his windshield.

The copilot however, was much calmer, hands still and trained. His eyes flicked to Red and Dembe, aware of their every movement and position. He was _too_ aware of his surroundings, given the current end-all circumstances.

“Dembe, stay here.” Liz’s voice was filled with caution and and implicit meaning. She reached for Red’s hand, the cabin still shaking, as they stumbled back into the body of the jet.

“Aram says-” Cooper started before Liz interrupted.

“I know. He’s right. It’s the copilot.” Liz nodded her head glad to have someone on the same page. Red was still in a panicked daze, angry with no outlet or direction.

“Red how much do you know about the copilot? Is he a regular staff member? Is there anything unusual about this flight?” Liz pulled on his arm, snapping him into attention. He needed to focus, they needed to focus. It would take all of them to get this plane safely to the ground.

* * *

Anger coursed through his veins and clouded his thoughts. He felt his nails cutting into his palms as he clenched his fists tighter with every passing second. It was surreal that this was happening to him, after every precaution he had taken. That this was happening in one of the few places he considered a safe haven. Worse still was the fact that Liz was standing just inches away from him and he had no idea what he could do to protect her, to protect any of them.

He felt her tugging on his arm, pulling him from the depths of his mind. He scanned her face, noting her intense determination and focus. They needed to solve this together. His ears rang loudly, her words lost completely to them. Instead, he focused on the movement of her lips, making out her question.

“He’s not a regular staff member, but I have flown with him before. All regular and secondary staff go through a rigorous background check.” Regardless of the checks he had done, he knew how easy it was to forge an identity. He had spent a lifetime perfecting the art, both for his own personal uses and as a product to sell to potential clients. But he knew all the tricks of the trade...how had this individual managed to elude him? He quickly connected the dots.

“She’s behind this. He’s connected to her. Zahn.” Clarity returned to him and he let out a low chuckle. Zahn was Serena’s right hand man when it came to physically retrieving products. Red was the latest product she needed to acquire. When he had decided to use his analogue space once again, the limited digital footprint he had disappeared. It must have been what tipped Serena off that he was on to her.

He pulled away from Liz’s grip, drawing his gun from his holster. The ringing returned to his ears. No one pulled tricks like this over on Red without suffering severe consequences. Stepping into the cockpit, he pressed the gun to the back of Zahn’s head, pulling the hammer back.

* * *

Liz had half a mind to stop him with Cooper present, but before she could do anything both Dembe and her boss grabbed at his shoulders. Liz knew this would only be a minor distraction. Killing the infiltrator wouldn’t help them, the best they could was land the plane in a way that _didn’t_ lead to a fiery explosion. Zahn wasn’t making the hack, he was here for something else...

“A bullet isn’t going to solve this Reddington,” Harold screamed over the commotion of the cockpit.

“Raymond,” Dembe’s deep and measured baritone chided.

Liz picked up the fallen phone on the couch where Cooper once sat. Still on, she rushed the thing clumsily against her ear.

“Aram?!” Maybe they still had time. Maybe Aram could buck her out of the system just long enough. Hopefully before Red pulls that trigger.

* * *

Red fought against both Harold’s and Dembe’s restraint. Shadows, lies, and infiltration were all hallmarks of his profession, but frankly, he was not a fan of them being employed against him.

“Fine.” He tossed his shoulder, a signal to the men holding him that he would resist the urge to put a bullet through Zahn…for now at least. Harold squeezed his shoulder, letting his hand linger a moment. Red knew the man understood, didn’t approve, but understood. He closed his eyes, tumbling all the different scenarios that could play out. Few options bode well for them.

“Ask Aram what else we can do Lizzy.” He breathed deeply. There was a small glimmer of hope that they could get through whatever the hell was happening and come out of this all right. He just needed confirmation and guidance from Aram. This was beyond the expertise of all the parties aboard. Aram and Michael had to have a few tricks up their sleeves.

* * *

“How sentimental is this jet to you?” Liz asked in the most monotoned voice possible. The parachute weighed heavy on her back now, the idea of the crash itself manifesting in the physical object strapped tightly against her.

“Do it,” Liz turned her face away from Red, eyes glued to the window watching the clouds drift higher and higher above them. She whispered hurriedly into the phone, “I’ll come up with something.”

Aram could only do so much from thousands of miles away, but this wasn’t any normal hacker. This was a titan he was unprepared for with no time to think and process. She could hear the nervousness in his voice with no one else in the Post Office to balance him out. She was asking him for the impossible. They needed a miracle to pull this off.

“I believe in you Aram,” and with those final words she placed the phone on the chair once again and bounded over to the cockpit.

* * *

“Not at all. I can always buy a new one. Can’t say the same of you or any of them.” At his words, he watched as Liz quickly headed towards the cockpit he had just been dragged from. Casting a challenging glance Harold’s way, he followed in her stride.

While Aram tried to work on the problem remotely, using his incredible technical prowess, Liz was getting set to take matters into her own hand, just in case all other options failed. There was one option neither of them were willing to accept, and that was the one where they all went down in a fiery blaze. He grabbed Liz’s arm before she could say or do anything to Zahn.

“I know what you’re thinking Lizzy and you _will_ be the first one out, if I have to eject you myself. I need _you_ out safe.” Her initiative to take control of the situation was strong, but he couldn’t risk her life and well-being on this. And with the chute currently strapped about her shoulders, she would be fighting from the low ground against the man if they were to get into fisticuffs.

* * *

Liz acknowledged Red briefly before wrapping her hands firmly around the copilot's collar. With fists full of shirt she pulled him from his chair and slammed him against the wall. Before he could fight back, Dembe’s large hands took over for her as she took a step back.

“You didn’t just come here to crash this plane, that could have been done remotely. What the hell are you looking for?” The man didn’t answer. His stoic silence was something she was unprepared for.

“You’re a grifter, a retriever. You’re a dog looking to bring a bone back to it’s master. I’ll ask you one more time, what are you here for?”

Grifters were notorious for their ability to blend in. The jack of all trades, able to steal the most complicated of objects right under the nose of their owners. She didn’t need to know anything about him, she already had a profile pegged.

* * *

“Darling, I think you know.” A cruel laugh burst from the man like the blood now pouring from his nose. His eyes flicked between Red and Liz as he licked away the crimson liquid. Silence weighed heavily before he settled his gaze upon Red.

“You are a much coveted prize to her employers. All know the power you have, the connections you maintain, and what weaknesses to exploit.“ He sized Liz up once more. “Perhaps you and the woman should rethink your relations, it just might get you both killed someday.” He returned to his silent intensity.

Though his words were few, it was evident he was there to extract both Red and Liz. To what end, he would never extricate from the man, if he even knew at all. More than anytime in the past several months, Red wanted to find Serena. He wanted to figure out what angle she was playing and why a woman of the digital realm was stalking a ghost from a more analog age.

“We’re losing altitude at an alarming rate. Surely she wants us alive. There must be some way you were to tell her that her packages were secure and ready for delivery.” He nodded to Dembe, letting him know it was ok to free Zahn. The man strode over to the communications console, flipping through the channels, pausing here and there. After a few inputs, the plane started to respond to the pilot once more.

“Controls back online!” The pilot cheered and slowly the plane stopped its shuddering. Red watched the altimeter as it slowly began to climb back towards a safe level.

* * *

“That’s it? That can’t be it.” Liz’s mind ran a mile a minute looking for the angle. This guy was an allusive infiltrator and after being threatened once he simply landed the plane? Were they playing into his hand? Was there something waiting for them upon landing?

She ran back for the phone still settled on Cooper’s empty chair.

“Aram, did you get it?” She eagerly awaited his reply.

“So we have a location? The source line was set up just like you said?” Liz sighed with relief and thanked the man profusely before ending the call and handing the phone back to Cooper.

Liz roamed back over to Red who was still seething with rage, barely contained by Dembe and Cooper’s presence. She landed a hand on his wrist calmingly and gave him a silent nod of finality. Zahn could be an interesting pawn to have, but she knew after what just happened he wouldn’t be around for much longer.

* * *

He was concerned that they could be jetting into a trap. After all, they knew not who, or what, might be waiting for them when they landed. They had a couple hours to plan a course of action, attempt to cover as many possibilities as they could.

But the one thing he knew, was he was done with Zahn. Now. Liz repeated the words he had been desperate to hear: that they finally had an exact location on Serena. Feeling her hand softly resting on his wrist was a silent command, a small act of permission she didn’t want to grant, for him to finish what he had started.

Before anyone could stop him, he drew his gun once more, swiftly pulling the trigger the second its target was in the sights. The bullet cleanly penetrated the man before lodging itself firmly in the bulletproof glass behind. A sickening thud echoed as Zahn hit the floor. Red’s face twitched, before he turned from Liz, and silently returned to a seat in the back of the jet.

He kept his gaze averted. Not wanting to meet anyone’s looks, afraid they might see what lies inside.

* * *

Liz stood stoically still. No matter how well she knew Red, how long she’d worked with him, or how desensitized she’d become to such violence, she still couldn’t fully process it. She was nowhere near just walking it off or brushing it away like Red just did, resting calmly in the back of the plane. They had just stared death in the face and spilled blood on the floor and yet still he had that stormy poker face intact.

Cooper’s eyes were large and disapproving. Being an officer of the law, his inner demons were tearing him apart. His emotions played out like a mid-day drama on his face. He’d made tough calls before, that was his job after all, but being unable to control this situation, to possible save a man’s life… It left him shaken and tormented.

Dembe was already tending to the disposal, moving the body from the cramped area as to not distract the remaining pilot further. Once Liz recovered her senses and returned to reality, she walked calmly to the back of the plane and took the adjacent seat. She didn’t meet his eyes, keeping them locked on the window. She wasn’t about to give him any approval, but she knew why he did it. Unfortunately, she understood. She feared that one day, she may even approve.

* * *

Red caught the way she locked herself to the seat and the window out of the corner of his eyes. She wanted to talk and he has already evaded her once this flight. After what just played out, he would be unsuccessful again, regardless of the topic.

“What’s on your mind Lizzy?” Like her, he was keeping his gaze firmly out the window, on the sun shining, blissfully unaware.

* * *

“Nothing Raymond,” she bit coldly.

She contemplated returning to the front of the plane. Talking to Aram, confirming plans, handling Cooper… But her body was pulled towards him. She could feel something different about him. So she stayed still. She wasn’t about to let him act as if there was only a problem because she made one. He knew what he did. He knew he evaded the past few conversations. It was his turn.

* * *

It was a lie. He knew how pissed she was at him. Answers he still had not given her. Some, repeat offenders while others records were just in their infancy. He sighed, finally looking to her. He reached a hand out to her, the space between the seats suddenly feeling like an infinite sea. Tenderly, he rested his hand on her knee.

“I know you're tired of the games Lizzy. I am too. I just…it’s…inexplicably hard to let go of old habits. I’m terrified of hurting you, yet my fears only hurt you more…” His voice trialed off.

* * *

She rolled her eyes and leaned back in the chair, spinning slightly away so his hand fell into open air. Maybe she wasn’t ready for this conversation after all. She didn’t need his apologies, especially his excuses. Their dynamic hadn’t been the same, she admitted that, but this… This was harder than expected. Her throat constricted and her hands clenched. She rose, momentarily looking towards Red.

“We need a plan for landing, I’m going to talk to Cooper. Make sure he’s not going to hull you in for that little stunt.” She sighed. Passive aggressive was about all she could muster at this point.

* * *

He rubbed his fingers together, acknowledging that she had just brushed him off. Like always, now wasn’t the time for the conversation they should, and probably needed, to have. She walked off swiftly and with purpose. Letting his eyes linger on her figure a moment longer, he looked around for his phone.

They needed to get eyes and ears on the ground, as soon as possible. With their flight scheduled to arrive in a couple of hours, they had a very small window of opportunity. Once all his players were in place, he would have to work with the Task Force to ensure their arrival went smoothly. Last thing they needed was to be ambushed.

While waiting for his calls to be answered, he couldn’t help but watch Liz as she worked. Her mind firing on all cylinders, looking at all the evidence they had from so many different angles. Agent. Profiler. Criminal. Mother. All these roles she had played blending fluidly together. A small smile contrasted with his somber eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note, after recent canon failure with Lizzington in 4a, we're going to begin to stray quite a bit into the canon most of the fandom believed we were going to get. Disappointed and frustrated with TPTB we're going to find solace here so we hope you guys come along for the ride. -cantletgo


	6. Two Birds, One Stone

“She’s the one thing we have left. She’s the key to  _ everything _ .” Shadowy conversations in back rooms were never meant to be heard. Never meant to turn into anything more than whispers among villains and demons. The dark rapture that crawls around the edges of your bed at night daring to pull you down, down,  _ down _ .

“She’s awake,” another hushed voice growled. 

“And you’re sure he’s coming?” Female. 

“You’re the one who’s been eating out of his hand, you tell us.” The first voice chimed back in again.

Liz groaned to life, head throbbing and heart pumping ever so slow. 

“I don’t have time for this, she’s the last one we should be dealing with.” A fourth voice was far too close to her ear and louder than ever.

“Then clearly you haven’t been keeping up with this little soap opera because she’s exactly the one we should be dealing with.” Female again.

“Sorry I cancelled my cable subscription,” the sarcasm nearly dripped onto her shoulder. The man behind her was unamused. 

She still couldn’t open her eyes, couldn’t place her surroundings, couldn’t remember what happened.

“Did you leave enough bread crumbs? He isn’t exactly the man we once knew him to be. Age has gotten the better of him.” The first voice.

“Maybe not age,” the voice behind glided around her. A hand pressed against her upper thigh, sliding her legs open. A chuckle. 

“Enough.” The woman.

The hand retracted leaving Liz shaking and cold. She’d lost a lot of blood, so much blood, her skin had to be blue. Chills ran up and down her spine, her brain not even aware enough to process fear. The words were forgotten as soon as she heard them. Nothing was being retained and certainly nothing would be retrieved.

“Elizabeth Keen.” The words were the first thing she’d put thought to. Her name, that was her name. 

“Raymond,” she half choked and groaned. She could taste the blood as it spilled down her lips.

“Two birds, one stone.” The voice had returned behind her, chuckling.

* * *

Red sat on a new plush carpet as Agnes ran about the room, taking in all the new sights of her surroundings. Colorful wooden blocks and stuffed animal littered the floor in front of him. Agnes would tear through the space, grab one or two objects and then blast off once more. He hoped she would tire of this game soon, needing her to go down for a nap shortly. A knocking alerted him to the fact that his guests had just arrived.

Gracefully as he could, he lifted himself from the floor, unfurling his sleeves from their perch about his elbow.  He sauntered towards the door, peering through the peep hole. Dom and Dembe stood there, calm and quiet as ever.

“Care to tell me why my granddaughter is in danger again because of you?” Dom shot him the foulest glance he had ever seen from the man as he walked into the spacious living room.

“I don’t have enough evidence to support any of my suspicions.” He rolled his eyes as he closed the door.

Serena was at the top of his very short list. Aram and Michael were working non-stop to locate Liz. Aram remembered what they all went through the last time Liz was taken from them. This time she was alive, or at least, presumed to be. Glen hadn’t been much help either. After waking from the ambush, Harold had put the Task Force into motion and Red had decided to resort to his usual resources. Which sadly were dwindling.

The number of people he could trust was falling by the minute. His people were supposed to have prevented whatever it was that happened when they landed. But they failed. And Red had yet to decide if that failure was actually that or someone marching to the beat of another drum major.

He watched as Dom strode over the the new couch, carefully arranging himself before Agnes realized who had joined them. No sooner had he settled than the little devil came running at him full tilt, shrieking with joy.

“ _Praaaaa_ *!!!” She threw herself at his legs, clinging to them in a ferociously loving embrace.

“You do what you need to do Raymond.” He nodded his head in silent approval but Red could see the anger burning just beneath the surface. Squatting down, he kissed his daughter on the head and departed the house to meet a waiting Dembe.

“Any news?” He threw his coat on and fixed his hat as they quickly strode to the idling car.

“Nothing we want to hear. But at least a small lead.” Not very comforting words but it was the most hope he had heard in nearly two weeks.

* * *

“She’s more in the dark than I thought, this is a waste of time.” The second voice, by far the most skeptical, began to speak again. She could now place the voice with a face, a frail man in his late seventies, snow white bushy brows and a pristinely bald head. Age spots covered his skin and scalp, but his suit screamed wealth and power. 

Her eyes blinked open with great effort. The surroundings were plush, it seems she’d finally arrived at her final destination. Her memory was still foggy but she remembered the pain of traveling, every new transfer and connection to get here was gut wrenching. She nearly passed out every time. 

“If not her than whom?” The woman sat in the back but her voice was commanding. “She’s the only one in his life, the only thing that matters. I don’t just run number Jerrico, I see lives in those lines and this is his. This everything.” 

“Key to everything, I told you. Don’t steal my thunder.” The first voice came from the side. A younger man, devilishly handsome… Had she seen him before? His smile was that of a wolf, toothy and wide. His dark hair and dark eyes pulled at something she couldn’t quite place. 

“What are you to him? His girlfriend? Weird daughter thing? Baby momma? I’m not one to judge, the French have a very explicit sexual culture, but wow. What a ride.” The man behind her. She began to recognize the French accent. Maybe Belgian. 

Words were starting to put together in coherent thoughts and ideas. She was placing faces. Things were coming back rapidly, a loud beeping coincided with her now quickening heartbeat.

“Come now Michel, you’ve had your fun.” The first voice, the wolf to the side. British. 

“Nurse,” the older gentleman called. Within seconds a woman in white knelt at her side, face mask covering any defining features. Her eyes bore into Liz, cold and calculating. She wasn’t an asset to be turned. 

“Where am I?” Liz choked. The hand of the nurse clenched tightly around her wrist, a warning?

“Now there’s a sensible question.” Michel spoke, inching around so she could finally see his face.

* * *

Wrath and fury burned in his wake as he entered the War Room. To say the lead they had was minute was a serious understatement. Whomever it was that tore Elizabeth from the safety of his grasp must know the dangerous game they were playing. It was the only reason he could think for them frequently moving here about.

“Please tell me you’ve found something more Agent Mojtabai.” He clamped on to a chair to keep from pacing about the space. He was tired and frustrated.

“I can tell you they are in the South of France. Would love to tell you their origin or even their potential destination but nothing.” Aram’s fingers were flying over the keyboard as maps and all sorts of data flashed across the screen. They were spiraling around, probably an attempt to confuse anyone who might be watching. He was becoming more certain by the minute that Serena was behind all this.

Red drummed his fingers against the back of a chair. He knew Aram was trying his best, that there was only so much they could do against this particular foe. He couldn’t help but feel that the information they were being fed was a lie. Or after the incident at the air strip, a serious trap.

But it was Elizabeth. He had to go after her. Had to do everything in his power to get her back safely.

“Harold!” He barked to the man he knew was lurking in the catwalks just above. He was going after her, with or without Harold’s permission. As a friend and as a man aware of the special relation Harold and Liz shared, it wouldn’t be right to at least tell him what he was planning.

And perhaps get some support from some of the few people he still trusted.

* * *

“ _Vous êtes parti des_ _ États _ _-Unis et maintenant, vous êtes arrivé en France. Bienvenue._ ” Michel’s French accent reigned heavily.

“Stop with that French bullshit, you have about all the French culture of Canada.” The wolf chastised. 

“Will you two cut it out?” The woman stood, hands on her hips.

“Serena is right.” The old man turned around, preparing something on an antique wooden table. 

“ _Putain_ …” Michel whispered.

“I don’t speak French,” Liz coughed.

“Neither does he,” the Wolf came closer, winking. “Welcome to France little one.” 

//

This wasn’t exactly the way Liz pictured seeing France for the first time. She laid quietly on a metal table, head elevated slightly, dressed skimpily. The flooding white lights blinded her weak vision and the humming of the machines drowned out what was left of her hearing. She lied there blind, deaf, alone, and in pain waiting for the next move. 

“So Elizabeth, tell me about your life. Your family. Your job.” A man in a white lab coat took the small rolling stool placed beside her table. “Do you sustain injuries easily? Are you prone to any kind of disease or disorder that I should know about?”

“You already seem to know everything. Or else I wouldn’t be here. I’m not saying anything.” It was the most threatening voice she could muster. 

“He may be asking these questions for medical purposes but my former question still stands unanswered.” Michel again. 

“Which was?” Liz spat. She wouldn’t giving him the satisfaction of memory even if she had the choice.

“My money's on baby momma though I must admit, I didn’t truly believe it until we received the test results.” Michel’s eyes were a dull blue and the only thing Liz could see in such harsh lighting. 

“How did you...” Liz began choking again. She was still incredibly cold to the point of shivering. The table seemed to vibrate at the very thought. Blood so much blood.

How did he know about Agnes? They’d been very careful to keep any records of Agnes out of the public or cyber eye. She’d hadn’t attended any schools yet or had any formal record other than those Red kept hidden. They’d given her the birth name Scott to keep her associated with Reddington, Rostov, or Keen… They had been very  _ very _ careful.

“So it  **_is_ ** his?” Michel howled with laughter. “Let’s go Richie, pay up.” 

The doctor reached up and shut off the flood light, lifting the table to a seated position. Liz could see the wolf standing in the corner, unhappy as ever.

“I told you not to call me that,” the Wolf glared. 

“Well unfortunately sweetheart, you are his baby momma no more. Honestly though, the thought just gives me the creeps.” The Frenchman turned back around.

“What is he talking about?” Liz looked doe eyed to the doctor who still had a comforting hand on her shoulder. Having mentioned Agnes brought her senses to attention. She needed more information and she needed an escape plan.

“I’m sorry to inform you, but you’ve had a miscarriage.” The doctor’s eyes were sullen, this was not the job he signed up for. “It was most likely due to the trauma you sustained on the  _ pick-up _ …” He chose his words carefully. “Unfortunately your recovery has been rather slow.”

“Miscarriage?” Liz’s voice drifted into the sleepiness of a dream.

“You weren’t too far along. But that also means the man of the hour isn’t far behind either.” The wolf, Richie, lifted an eyebrow. 

“Wait a second,” Michel came closer. “What did you think we were talking about?” His face came ever so near. His hand wrapped threateningly around her wrist. 

* * *

"You really think Serena is behind Liz's abduction?" Harold looked at him with a concerned expression. Behind his dark eyes was a man lost in deep contemplation.

"It's the only thing that makes any sense Harold. Why else would Elizabeth have been taken after our mid-flight incident with Serena's hunting dog?" Had it been some kind of backup plan? In retrospect, Zahn must have signaled a distress code to Serena. Must have let her know that yes, he was on board with her precious cargo but things had not gone according to plan.

"To what end? Why her? You and I were both on board, you think either of us would have been a more likely target." Harold was right, and it deeply concerned Red that it had been Liz taken and not he. The knot in his stomach churned and his heart sank.

"Because of me." It pained him to utter the words, faint as they might have been. Liz was being used as bait and he was the fish they were trying to land. "I shouldn't have brought you Harold. I hope I did not make a grave error."

"Even if you had not invited me, I would have followed you Reddington. Someone has to watch over the two of you." A smirk crept across Red's face at Harold's words. Ever watchful and protective where Liz was concerned. Almost as much, perhaps even more so than even Red was.

"It had to be you. Of all the people in the world it had to be you my friend. I know what I see in her, the kind of relation her and I have. But who is she to you?" It had been fascinating to watch thing blossom between Harold and Liz over the years. He had taken a special liking to Liz.

"Ever since day one and you demanded to speak to her and only her, I only had her best interests in mind. Charlene and I never had children of our own. I guess somewhere along the line, I started thinking of her as my own." A warm smile graced his face. Red knew that smile. Knew that it meant he was thinking of Liz.

"I suppose there are far worse people in the world who have desired to claim her as their own." Red's tone fell flat. There were very few in the world who had ever claimed Liz as their daughter. The only one he ever wanted to offer that title was Sam, but now, he would gladly extend it to Harold. The man was truly worthy.

"So what are your plans with Elizabeth?" Ahhhh he was already starting to dig in. They were a mere hour into their flight to Paris. It was bound to be a long journey if their conversation was to continue in this manner.

"You might not see me as the white picket fence kind of gentleman, but I assure you, I want nothing more than to give that to her. A wolf might not fit so easily in sheep's clothing but he might try. Wolves always do better in packs anyways. Incredible caring and tender to their young, vicious and relentless when threatened." Red was set to bare his teeth to their foes. Do everything in his power to get Liz safely back home. With Aram and Samar, Donald, Harold...and most importantly, with him and Agnes.

* * *

“She hasn’t spoken?” The second voice chimed. The deep tones belonged to Marcus, she’d finally caught the older gentleman’s name.

“And we can’t  _ make _ her talk, not in this state. Doc says it’s too risky.” Richard, what he prefered to be called, clarified. 

“When have we ever colored inside the lines?” Michel leaned back behind the two men, toying with a pen in his hand.

“You two have no idea what  _ we _ do. Shut up, sit down, and observe. Maybe then you’ll finally be given the opportunity of those board meetings you so covet.” One look from Marcus, and the Wolf and Frenchman sat down in adjoining seats. 

“My dear, I think it’s about time you left.” The old man’s tone changed as he addressed Serena. It was a foul sweetness that was far too pleasant. Something was off.

Serena, the blacklister they’d chasing for months on end, was finally right in front of Liz’s face. She was slender and meek, but carried a new air of confidence that her brother had failed to describe. She’d made a deal with the devil or rather, a super conglomerate of demons. Red was walking into a trap. From everything she’d been asked and everything she’d heard, he was the prize. They must be dangling her around like a toy he wanted back. He was always willing to make the sacrifice play, but after so many tries surely one of these times he wouldn’t be able to worm his way out of this one.

There was an empty ache in her stomach as her hands reached to inspect. The word was nothing she was willing to process right now, let alone repeat. Her focus was one Red, on her daughter, on getting out of here. She needed to keep her head about her. 

Serena exited the room with a small smile to Marcus. She turned to address Liz once before she left, as if seeing her for the first time. No longer behind a monitor or lines of code, but seeing the real person, something she didn’t do often.

“Your brother, he misses you.” Liz need to try anything. Whatever humanity Serena had left was tied to her family and most certainly Red’s only card to play was her brother. Without addressing the statement, Serena exited the grand room. Marcus pulled up a chair across from Liz.

“You’ve met some of my colleagues and they’ve come back with mixed reviews. The daughter of a Russian spy, the love child of the Cold War, profiler gone rogue, really the titles are endless. What I can say is you’ve gotten yourself mixed up in quite a bit of trouble young lady.” Marcus readjusted and waved over the Wolf.    


“He’s lead you into danger, but he was always good at that. Even when he was among us, we never really knew what he was going to do. Always secretive with his partners and it appears he’s done the same with you. What do you  _ really _ know about Raymond Reddington?”

The question hung in the air like a dead weight. Memories of their first encounter in the box came rushing back. The pen in the neck. Their first dinner. Nights of dancing. The storage container. Guns and blood, wounds and pleas to live. Lips that screamed life and hands that worshiped. She knew Raymond Reddington better than anyone and yet still these monsters were taunting her into dangerous secrets she didn’t want to believe.

“He’s been trying to take you and your Cabal down for years. A decade. You don’t know him at all, he’s your enemy.” Liz bit her tongue and tried her best to keep calm. She was surrounded and disoriented, now was not the time to get herself drug back into the metal chair.

“Oh wow, he really hasn’t told you anything has he?” Michel gasped a little from behind and let out an amused laugh, twirling the pen faster and faster.

“How do you think he knows about us? Knows everyone on the inside?” The Wolf smiled, acknowledging her ignorance. 

“I trained the man, made him what he is today. I gave him his name and plucked him from the mediocrity the Navy would have provided him. He chose power sweetheart, like he always has. I know his weaknesses and now I know it’s you.”

* * *

“Do you really want to get involved in this manner?” He stepped out of the jet, phone pressed tightly to his ear. He was all ears for any alternatives to the one he had planned, but he didn’t like the part where someone else was trying to put themselves at risk to save Liz.

“Red, we need to try. What other options do we have?” Michael’s voice was laced with conflicting feelings. Anger. Desperation. And what sounded almost like a fool’s hope.

“Only one.” It was a place he knew all too well. He would sacrifice himself for Liz every time. But the team had done their best to talk him out of it, wanting desperately for him to take a step back. They wanted to see that he was able to be around for Liz and Agnes. All their conversations lead to the one he was now carrying with Michael. “I can’t let you do this.”

“You don’t have a say. That’s why I waited for you to leave. Made my own arrangements.” Red could hear the smugness in that matter of fact tone.

“You’re treading in dangerous waters going over me like that Michael.” The boy was lucky Red was unable to jump through the phone and beat him to a bloody pulp.

“Are you going to torture me again? I’m not afraid Red. Probably a dead man walking with this plan anyways.” Red rolled his eyes as the boys final thoughts crackled before he hung up.

“Looks like we aren’t the only ones walking into the lion’s den. I only hope she’s had her feast before we get there.”

* * *

Richard was the only one left now, on guard in case Liz mumbled anything incoherently that could be useful. Pumped full of drugs to either help her medical condition or to make her talk, she wasn’t sure, but what she did know was she could listen.  _ Understand _ . 

Everything Marcus said had a tone of truth to it. She worried and confused as to what to believe. He cited specific dates and people, places she knew Red had been and conversations she knew Red had had. It might have been a younger Raymond, but it was him nonetheless. Had this been why he was so dedicated to this fight? To taking them down?

“You really didn’t know?” She wasn’t sure the Wolf had spoke. His eyes were still cast to the floor, hands crossed, lips pressed tightly together. All Liz could do was shake her head. 

“And you still won’t give him up?” The man asked again.

Liz paused. She didn’t really need to consider it, it was second nature, of course she wouldn’t. She was in this for the long haul, thick or thin. She knew the man he was now, the man he was with her, with their daughter, and that was all she needed. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have a shitstorm of questions waiting for him later.

If there was a later.

“Never,” she whispered. 

“He doesn’t deserve such loyalty.” The Wolf spat.

“How would you know what he deserved? Or what he’s become? Or who he is? You have no idea who you’re dealing with.” Liz knew Red wouldn’t give up without a fight. They were underestimating him, that gave him the advantage. 

This must have been a branch of the Cabal Red hadn’t dealt with yet. One that didn’t know what he was capable of now with the help of the FBI and his strengthened empire. As much as she hated to admit it, Raymond Reddington was a name to be feared in all circles, and now she was glad for it. Now she just needed to get out and meet him. Warn him. Help him.

* * *

“You wouldn’t know anything about Michael having flown out before us would you Harold?” He looked at the man with intense amounts of frustration. He knew the Task Force had all talked about alternative options to rescue Red, but he had shot them all down.

“Not a clue. I thought we had left things at you and I going on this alone.” He face was one of honesty. Confusion and concern resting upon his furrowed brow.

“Apparently not. Seems Michael had another plan. He’s been in Paris tracing his sister for at least an hour.” The boy was stubborn as ever. Maybe Red should have pressed him harder when they first met. Give him a little something more to fear.

“Not on my command. Thought he was yours anyways. We just let him stay because Aram keeps a close eye on him. And they seem to have become good friends, which is good for the both of them.

"I just hope it doesn’t get him killed. I have a bad feeling about this. I’ll phone Aram, see if we can’t follow our own lead to Liz.” He turned the phone about his palm, a nervous action that calmed his voice before dialing.

They had been having a hard time narrowing down where Liz and her captors were currently staying. But they had been moving steadily North. They must have flown into Madrid before crossing into France and spending some time in the vast openness. He just prayed they found her sooner rather than later.

 

* * *

“Where did they go?” Liz was calm. 

She wasn’t chained or tied down, rather she was given space and room to recover. This was the oddest form of capture and torture she could recall. They knew now that she had no useful information. She was a bird in a cage waiting for Red to fall into a trap.

“A small place in the sixteenth,” the Wolf said.

“Excuse me?” Liz stood to look out the window.

“ _Le seizieme arrondissement,_ ” he clarified as if making it any easier. “Paris, you’ve never been?” He was more curious, his tone playful. “Such a beautiful woman and you’ve never been to Paris?”

“I’m married to my job and the bad guys usually come to me, not much travel.” She lifted an eyebrow remembering Red’s surrender so long ago. Her name rolling of his tongue, his only plea.

Just when he was close enough Liz bucked her head back and landed a punch to his windpipe. She’d been right, the boy didn’t know how to fight. Some son of a rich diplomat, no doubt, squaring his shoulders for power. He was in line for the Cabal, not one of the hitmen or ex military. 

The boy lay choking on the floor, grasping at his throat, as if he had never felt pain before. He couldn’t get a word out before Liz laid a final punch, knocking him out cold. She grabbed his phone, keys, and gun and out the window she went.

* * *

“I need an update Aram.” He barked into the phone with more force than he intended. They needed to find Liz now. Harold had forged ahead to secure them a transport vehicle as Red determinedly strode through the airport.

He watched as others passed by him with their suitcases and their families. Briefcases and busy conducting business calls while the waited. These people were going about their mundane lives, busy worrying about when the next bus might come so they can make it in time for that meeting or whatever meal they might be heading to.

“Um, well. They appear to be moving toward the Western side of Paris. When they stop moving hopefully I can give you a better location.” Aram sped through the words, as flustered as Red was.

“How about a current approximation?” He breathed, trying to soften his tone. Him getting riled up would do them no favors.

“Looks like their in the eighth right now. Depending on traffic, about thirty minutes away.” Red could hear the tapping of keys in the background. Aram was doing whatever he could to keep tracking her and make sure he went undetected.

“Keep me posted. I need to know as soon as they stop.” Slapping the phone closed, he saw Harold casually standing on the sidewalk. Red stood beside him, waiting for the man to make the first comment.

“Waiting for our ride. Supposed to be here in just a minute.” Harold flashed his phone at Red, showing their driver’s ETA.

“Can we trust them?” That was his only concern. He remembered Dembe going undercover in one of those roles before. Granted the situation had been very different, but knowing Serena and those like her, it would be easy enough to set them up.

“Reviews are very positive.” Harold flicked through whatever program was on his phone. “Definitely our best bet for getting around in Paris.”

Red just shook his head in response. He had a fully loaded gun on hand should Harold’s trust turn out to be misplaced.

* * *

Once Liz poured through the coded text messages and did a thorough search of her surroundings with the map feature on her phone, she raced towards the nearest metro entrance. Hurdling down the stairs she pushed her way around some rather slow and preoccupied people. She took one look at the ticket machine with the French instructions and decided to jump the turnstile, passing silently under the metal bar and slinking through the rigid plastic swinging door.

It smelled like hot piss and drug habits down there. It wasn’t in the nicest metro station in Paris. She just needed to jump on the nine and get down to the sixteenth before it was too late. The metro slowed to a stop and opened it’s door briefly before starting up again. There wasn’t a seat available so she clung to the pole warily, drawing many stares from her battered appearance and torn untrendy clothing.

The nine moved quickly as she jumped out at her stop and hurried up the stairs. Breaking through the too cool Autumn air of Paris she looked around for street names, struggling. The sixteenth was calmer than where she’d been previously, older couples walking quietly down the road. There were a few kids skateboarding down the wide sidewalk of the outer city. She needed to head to the Seine. One more look on her phone and she found her direction. She turned left and headed south. They would need to be secluded and this was the district to do it. Safe. Quiet. Expensive.

* * *

Red and Harold quietly sat in the back of the Uber car. He was extremely uneasy about the whole thing. Random people just driving other people around. It sounded like a potential nightmare for any parties involved. When he scooted into the seat at the airport, he was careful to remove his gun from his back holster, keeping it hidden among the folds of his coat.

“What do you have?” He didn’t want to hold his breath, but he hoped for good news.

“I have an address for you, 42 Rue Erlanger. They’ve been there for the past five minutes so I think it’s a safe bet that’s where they set up for now.” Red could hear the cheer in his voice. He was glad they finally had this narrowed down.

“Thank you Aram.” He sighed in relief, glad to finally know where they were going.

“ _Excusez-moi monsieur, changement d'adresse. 42 Rue Erlanger, s'il vous plaît._ ” Red uttered in his best French, giving the driver their new destination. He could see the smiling eyes of their driver, a small commentary on his accent, but the man understood.

He watched the scenery as it rushed past them. Paris was beautiful: he had always wanted to take Liz here but this was not the context he wanted for that trip. Closing his eyes, he settled into deep thought the remainder of the trip. When this was all over, they would be taking some time, just the two of them to enjoy the beautiful city.

* * *

Liz arrived at the address found in the text messages. The tall brown stone was aligned with the rest of it’s surrounding buildings. Beautiful detail and rod iron balconies, old and well maintained. It wouldn’t stand out as inherently evil but she could only imagine what laid in wait for her inside. 

She wanted to call Red, she knew his number by heart, just to make sure he was safe. She wanted to enter this trap alone, knowing they wouldn’t kill her. She was an asset after all. But she knew the consequences. Recklessly entering his number into a Cabal phone, who knows the information they could get with someone like Serena on their payroll. She wouldn’t risk it with a lecture to follow. Instead she stomped the phone to pieces and kicked it in the gutter before entering the building.

* * *

Red and Harold carefully climbed the stairs of the building. If Serena was here, he didn’t trust the elevator. She could manipulate that and giving her any kinds of edge over him was the last thing he wanted. He tried to maintain a cool air, paying attention to all his surroundings. Noting where the lights were. Where security cameras were. He stared down a camera on the last landing, knowing she was watching. Harold drew his gun, Red following suit. They looked to each other before silently nodding to enter the space. Red shoved the door open gun out front, ready to fire.

When they entered the space they saw Serena’s computer setup: desktops covered with monitors, servers neatly standing at attention in rows. And at the center of the room, Serena holding a gun right at Red’s chest, while Marcus held a gun to Michael’s head. 

Two more men, heavily armored and armed to the teeth poked out from behind support structures. Red’s eyes flicked about the space, making note of all their options if things were to go down.

* * *

Liz burst open the doors and pressed the button for the elevator, impatient. She looked at the floor directory. Mundane business names filled all the floors except for the top, the ninth, empty. That must be where the ambush was happening. Watching the blinking light of the slow small French elevator she decided to mount the stairs, taking them two at a time.

By the top she was huffing and puffing. After such injuries and rushing she was out of breath and in pain. She could feel her stitches ripping and her wounds reopening the bleeding probably starting again.

She looked to the security camera pinpointed at the top of the steps, staring at her directly. She mumbled a curse under her breath. She was off her game. She took the gun from her waist band and shot the camera point blank. She was done with this shit.

* * *

Red flared his nostrils at the sight of the man before him. Of course Marcus was the one handling the situation. Zahn and Serena were both young, highly skilled individuals. Marcus specialized in finding that raw talent and pulling them into his world of shadows. Tempting them with access to all the power in the world.

“Shame you aren’t dead yet Marcus. I knew I should’ve put a bullet through you in Kiev all those years ago.” He shook his head. “Learned to make sure all loose ends were tied after that ordeal. You’re one of the few I still have out there. About time we remedied that don’t you think?”

The men stared each other down, neither budging an inch. Waiting for the other to make the first move. The sound of the door behind them crashing open broke the tension as shots were fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *praded (прадед) is the Russian word for great-grandfather. I imagine Dom trying to teach Agnes Russian in their time together. And maybe she doesn’t always get everything.


End file.
